


Under A Dome

by HackdrawerMcHugglesWorthRivertonThe3rd



Category: One Piece
Genre: Drama, Ghosts, M/M, OOC, Reversible Couple, Romance, Supernatural - Freeform, ghost hunter, ghost whisperer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2020-12-07 20:21:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 68,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20981786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HackdrawerMcHugglesWorthRivertonThe3rd/pseuds/HackdrawerMcHugglesWorthRivertonThe3rd
Summary: Sanji can see ghosts - Law is a ghost hunter. But when a long ago secret begins to reveal itself, who are they really? A complicated love story. AU *COMPLETED*





	1. Under A Dome

**1: Under A Dome**

* * *

His boyfriend was the type of man that was selfish with his decisions but Sanji didn't seem to mind. Some of those selfish reasons included him, and sometimes Sanji was surprised to be included.

Not that he was looking for any type of relationship. Not that he considered Law his "_boyfriend_", but there really wasn't another word for it. For this.

Sometimes he'd awake in the middle of the night to find the taller man crawling into bed with him. Sometimes Law was in a chatty mood, sometimes he was there just for silent and no-frills sex, and sometimes he'd just fall asleep with his feet shoved between Sanji's calves and snore right on through morning.

Sanji never asked Law what he was looking for. Maybe this was just one of those things the older man wanted from him - his silence and his loyalty. Sanji wasn't going to brag about the visits - part of him was ashamed of this mute thing, and another part was grateful for it.

Maybe it was the same for Law. Maybe he thought the very same things. Sanji wondered what title he was under in Law's mind.

_My boyfriend, my boyfriend, my boyfriend_, he thought silently whenever he thought of Law. The word didn't feel_ wrong_, but it felt wrong because this wasn't what he'd imagined when he envisioned himself being in a relationship_._

Maybe he said say his pet, instead.

_My pet_ climbed into bed with me at two am last night, and rode my dick until we were both wrung out.

_My pet_ did this weird thing to me where he made me cum without me shooting out anything.

_My pet_ took over the bed and left me clinging to the edge by my shoulder - even snatched my pillows to elevate his shitty feet.

_My pet_ could not stop talking about how the flavor of water only changed with temperature, and how ghosts were actually charged water particles created by a human who was unaware of telekinetic abilities that warped their way of thinking - oh, yes, he did mention how the sandwich shop down the block sold their cookies by weight and not by pairs?

It had all started when Sanji was on his way towards a better way of life. Growing up, he'd always been the "fat kid" because the house's cook was terrified Sanji would starve to death. As an adult he was eating disordered and anxious and he'd wanted to change all that now that he was out living on his own.

In a bookstore downtown that he frequented for its narrow aisles and walls upon walls of books that were sometimes only accessible with a ladder, Law had approached Sanji from behind and warned him about how wearing animal leather was killing the atmosphere. Sanji wasn't wearing leather that day - but this weird guy with sleepless eyes and breath heavy with coffee and rather obnoxiously sexy aura convinced him that he was, and suddenly they were making out in the alley and Sanji _didn't even like men_.

They didn't even exchange numbers. Law stalked him back to his apartment one day, forced himself into the apartment and somehow had a copy of his key.

This was obviously harassment but Sanji found himself bewildered in that he couldn't even fight it. _He hated men_. Yet this one forced his way in, practically rearranged his life to force Sanji to include him, and never gave Sanji a clue as to who he really was or if he was _real_ and Sanji had a hard time determining just what the guy meant to him.

_Of fucking course_ he couldn't even tell anyone about it because he _hated_ men and what would it look like if he told his friends he was fucking/being fucked by one? They'd all think he was crazy.

Maybe Law was a vampire. He ordered about a gang of living undead that stalked normal, disordered humans that were vulnerable to attention and was feeding off him. But that didn't make sense – a little too unrealistic. So it was difficult thinking of him as a leader of anything.

Maybe he was a secret celebrity from another country. But wouldn't Sanji have learned his identity through tabloids by now?

Maybe Law was a ghost Sanji picked up along the way because, _by the way_, did he mention he could see ghosts?

His friends were ghosts.

The cook had died before Sanji had turned thirteen and in his wild delusions Sanji over-ate because of him. Sanji didn't even know him – the cook just appeared in the kitchen one day and talked only to Sanji, convincing him to eat more and more because he'd persuaded Sanji that he was starving.

His dead mother followed him everywhere. But mysteriously, thankfully, she was never present in his apartment to lecture him because some of the things they did in bed…well…

Random ghosts approached him in the street and caused him to fumble because they were saying all these things and he couldn't help but talk right back and people looked at him funny because he was talking to mid-air…

His real family tortured _and_ created his disorder as a response.

Sanji was a list of problems and strangely, his "boyfriend" wasn't one of them. It felt almost too good to be true, and he was afraid of being happy because there was always an "_aha_!" moment to end any sort happiness he might be feeling, and…he didn't want that to happen this time.

So one night, while Law talked incessantly at 3:17 am about how mumble rap was the new future of rap and cradled his hot mug of coffee, Sanji reached over and spilled it on him.

His theory was disproven because humans screech in a way that describes their pain, and Sanji never heard a ghost (or vampire) screech the way Law did.

Sanji waited calmly while Law rose from the bed - in his animal and environmental friendly jeans, black v-neck, beanie and muddy motorcycle boots (_wait_) - and gave hissing noises while he looked at Sanji while he was crazy.

"So you _are_ human," Sanji stated firmly, folding his fingers together. "Not a ghost."

Law's mouth was open for several seconds while he pulled his shirt away from his stomach and processed that statement. He cocked his head as his eyes darted here and there with immense confusion.

"_Now_ what'd I do?" he finally asked.

Sanji blinked with question from behind the lenses of his glasses. That was something he'd often heard from himself when it came to his family's accusations. A certain cluelessness to something he wasn't even remotely aware of or brought attention to until it was thrust at him with heavy accusation and blame.

Law wasn't aware of Sanji's silent musings, because _of course_ Sanji hadn't even said anything aloud to him. But what did Law think when it came to him? How did he label this?

Sanji winced, fiddling with his fingers. Then said, "I see dead people, so I just assumed you were one of them."

He added hastily, "This thing has been months upon months of meeting at odd times and…sometimes I think you're not real because we mostly meet at night, and…I never see you outside, and we first met outside, but that was late at night, so…I had a theory that you weren't actually real."

Law was silent after that, but his face was expressive with confusion. He nodded in response, then set the empty mug aside on the white night stand.

"I'll see you around," he said low, and Sanji watched him leave the room with mild alarm because he thought that, amidst the obvious confusion Law was experiencing, there was genuine hurt in that comment as well.

He scrambled off the bed and hurried after the taller man. "I'm sorry, that was a really shitty thing to do, but I just didn't know -!"

"I mean, not only did you burn me, but then you accused me of being a…ghost," Law said, opening the front door. He gave Sanji a look of disappointment. "It's kind of…_crazy_, y'know?"

Discomforted by that statement, Sanji didn't know what to say. He reached up to fiddle with his frizzy hair, the curls layering his face as he often took his ponytail out for bed. Law shrugged and left, slamming the door behind him. He opened it moments later to deliberately close it gently, as if to appease the earlier show of strength.

Sanji fiddled with his fingers, absorbing the silence left behind. He was confused because he didn't know Law had found something in him that apparently soothed him, and upset because he'd potentially ruined something he was just starting to expect.

This was the "_aha_!" moment he'd been dreading. It happened at his own hands.

He turned in a slow circle around his living room, biting his lower lip. The silence left behind felt so damn suffocating.

: :

Half of his life was spent in violence – after being witness to traumatic events, Law had become a part-time vegan, sat at protests for climate change and donned a hood and mask for political events to fight against those that were eager for a greater change. He volunteered at the local SPCA, dropped in on homeless shelters and signed his name to online petitions for political protests.

_Mostly_.

Mostly because he was slightly insane, and these were the things he imagined himself as things he _wished_ he did.

He was working on that. Being a kid who grew up witnessing brutal violence, he tended to warp things a bit just to numb himself a little.

He was actually a meat loving, baseball bat to the body type of bar hopper whose temper snapped at an instant, comfortable in a gang of rabble-rousers BUT he had a mission in life: that was supernatural related. He and his gang hunted ghosts – wicked ones. Demons, life-suckers, etcetera, etcetera. Beings that no one else could see – the ones that made things go bump in the night, and the ones that stole the breath from babies and the ones that wandered roadsides, trying to make the living crash.

A ghost hunter.

One had to have a slightly insane outlook on life to actually see the things, and Law saw them all. He wasn't the type of medium that extended a hand and whispered comforting words – no, he was the type to lift his weapon of choice and send them off into the netherworld for eternal rest because he'd seen too much of the wicked and there was no time to determine which ones were good and which ones were bad.

In response, his actions had allowed him something other humans wouldn't understand – each ghostly life he took, he grew a little more…superhuman. Faster reflexes, stronger strength, and if he concentrated hard enough, locked doors were nothing because he could pass his own hand right through the door to unlatch it himself. He was almost – _basically_ – a ghost himself.

So the day he saw Sanji in the bookstore, mumbling responses to the ghosts that followed him from shelf to shelf, Law thought he hit a gold mine. Mediums always had ghosts around them, interrupting their lives.

Only…

It didn't go as expected. Law was surprised that it went on for as long as he did. When he sat down to think about it, he counted finger after finger to realize why Sanji had these questions.

_I've been someone's companion for nearly _two and a half_ years_, he thought incredulously.

And now here he was, sitting in the crowded bar with a cross look on his face while his coffee-stained shirt stiffened to his skin. Not that the incident had physically hurt him – he just wasn't expecting that type of response. And Sanji's theory was just a little too close to home, it had rattled Law, and Law was, for the first time in a long time, blank because he was forced to think about it.

He'd let Sanji think whatever he was thinking then pop up later, like always. Humans couldn't hurt him, anymore. But that incident _stung_ in such a way that he was rattled.

_Well, duh_, he thought crossly as his ragtag gang of ghost hunters drank themselves silly and bullied regulars that weren't drunk enough to fight back. The bartender was ignoring them all, the Closed sign on the door diverting other customers away from the scene.

Of course _I visited late at night because I didn't want him getting the wrong idea_. Of course _I don't take him outside during the day, I'm trying to save my identity, here_, he thought, folding his arms over his chest while grumpily glaring at the empty shot glass in front of him. _But what an idiot he is to think that I was a ghost myself because of these things! Of course it's just a booty call_!

…_a two and a half year booty call_, he amended, once again wearing a surprised look.

He looked up at the ceiling, wiggling his nose to upset the thick rimmed glasses he wore. He was a fashionably attractive guy – he wore clothes that fit and coordinated, he showered on the regular, he styled his hair, his tattoos were…mildly acceptable. "Death" on his neck, insignias in places he could hide, double earrings at his lobe – the glasses only allowed him to look, well, casual. Not too hoodlum. He went to the gym, he liked to run in the early evening hours, and he occasionally had a salad with his BBQ ribs. He knew what he looked like – he used it as a weapon in itself.

Sanji wasn't his usual fare – but there was something about that messy haired, hungry looking and shabbily dressed mouse that drew Law in like a moth to a flame. He was a very quiet man, looking Law straight in the eye and refusing to budge despite the shy blush on his cheeks – oh, and did Law have to remind himself about that body he hid underneath those shabby, ugly clothes?

He'd gone in expecting to be the predator, and ended up both predator and prey when he was in the mood for it (which was quite often – the mouse sure knew how to use his hips).

His mouth drew into a tightened frown, stubbornly scowling across the room as he willed his own body to obey him.

Law spent most of their time together bullshitting or sexing or sleeping – but none of it was geared to knowing just who Sanji was. He never seemed resentful of those roles, and Law would have never thought anything different until last night.

He was upset that it had. Couldn't he just come over when he wanted to and just resume where they left off without having a title to it? He could find any bed mate he wanted in this crumbling, crappy city. But he had to admit there was only one bed he gravitated to. It had been the only bed he'd gone to in the past year and a half.

"Fuck me up sideways," he muttered. He tilted his head to the left when a beer mug shattered at the wall near his ear, and men were fighting each other rambunctiously – but his attention didn't stray that way.

He'd gone off course.

He was a ghost hunter, Sanji was a ghost lighthouse. He needed to use that. Law had the gift of gab and distraction. Plus it was fairly obvious with the lack of family pictures on the bare walls or mention of friends that Sanji was a loner – he was in obvious need of Law's attention, so more than likely he'd feel guilty about running Law off so Law was going to let him stew about it before he popped back up without any indication of hurt.

Because he wasn't hurt – just surprised. He nodded with satisfaction, and refilled his glass before someone crashed into it, sending it flying away from him as they continued the fight onto the floor.

: :

Sanji went two months without seeing the man. He tried not to think about it but he was really upset about losing the only real connection he had to another living being. Ghosts flitted in and out of his space like a change of wind, and, despite himself, he glanced over his shoulder whenever he went out because he was hoping to at least catch sight of the older man.

"Who are you looking for?" his mother asked, sitting across from him in the sparsely lit coffee shop that was in sight of the bookstore. Her voice was soft and gentle – her presence glowing like candlelight amidst the booth seat. She was still wearing the nightgown she'd died in – a silky, lacey thing that was both prim and pretty at the same time. Cancer. It consumed her too soon for chemo to cause any hair loss.

As a ghost, she looked tired and swollen.

Sanji kept his head down, rereading the same paragraph he had been reading since he came in an hour ago. There were three people at the coffee bar, two at various tables, and a single waitress wiping down booths nearby. All of them too distant to notice him mumbling to himself.

"No one," he answered. His hair, curly all the time and manageable in the ponytail he made carelessly at the crown, was sectioned off to allow enough strands to dangle in front of his face. His glasses kept them from catching on his eyelashes. He wore an ugly striped polo shirt that was tucked into overalls that were a size too big. He also wore all weather boots to protect him against the relentless rain outside. His skin was currently covered in goose pimples from the AC chill.

Sora smiled lightly at him. "I see you peeking out the window every time someone moves."

"_No one_, mother."

"How is work?"

Sanji worked at a restaurant down the block. His hours were being cut as the economy seemed to slag. The city was unhappy with the modern changes. He didn't want to talk about his job. It once gave him pleasure, but the ghosts…well…they were intrusive.

"Never mind that question," Sora then said, fluffing out her hair. A man shuffled over in bedraggled clothing, but changed his mind once she set a glare at him. Sanji heard the new ghost shuffle off, flicking through the waitress as she passed through him. "I suppose I already know. I visited the house, today. Your father has made renovations to the library, and the kitchen. Zeff is upset. So Judge has had to hire two new contractors because the others are frightened. I was hoping you could go over and calm the chef."

"I'm not talking any sort of sense to a ghost, mother. Absurd."

"If he could, Zeff would follow you. But we're all bound to the things we love the most. And he loved that shabby kitchen. And I love you all _very_ much," Sora added, her tone reflecting that.

Sanji looked up from his book. "Then why not move on?"

"To where? The bright, shining light?" Sora gave him a skeptical look as she fluffed her hair once more. "And miss out on watching my children grow up?"

"Nothing exciting here to see. We're still the same little shits you knew, just bigger."

She reached out across the table to flick at his hair. His curls did jump with the motion, and Sanji glanced around cautiously to make sure no one saw that. But everyone was focused on their own matters. The music here was changed to something orchestral, and it did seem to perk up the place.

"I just want to make sure that you'll all be okay," she said. Hearing the change in her tone, Sanji frowned at her. Her expression was heavy as she watched him. "And none of you are 'okay'."

Sanji didn't want to hear this. He shut his book, and shoved it into his bag. Scooting out from his seat, he said, "We're fine, mother. Just as fine as we can be."

She followed him out into the heavy rain, unaffected by the unforgiving moisture and damp chill that had many people scurrying for their destinations with their heads down. Traffic moved slower than usual. Sanji removed his glasses to see better, hair already sticking to his skin. Once it dried, his hair would explode with curls and frizz. None of his siblings had this problem – it was unfortunate that he had to have this added to his list of difficulties.

Despite himself, he glanced around to catch sight of a bright yellow jacket with fur (wasn't Law a vegan?). He waited at the crosswalk with a few others as cars passed by, urging those in front of them with minute honks and angry yelling. Sora paused next to him, still glowing that dim glow she had. She reached up to fiddle with his hair, and he twitched about to avoid her gentle fingers.

A man running through the line of vehicles made the motion to yell at Sanji, but all it took was a glare from Sora to have him reconsider. He turned and raced back to where he'd come from, re-enacting his last dying moments on the sidewalk. _Gunshot wounds_, Sanji supposed with a grim frown.

"You're still looking," Sora said, almost in sing-song. "Not at that scene, but you're looking. Whoever you're looking for, my duckling – "

"I'm not looking for anyone!" Sanji insisted impatiently, his voice a tad too tight. Sora drew back from him, and he felt guilt all over again. Other pedestrians glanced at him, then tried to draw their attention back. He exhaled heavily, breath visible in the heavy rain. "I'll go talk to Zeff."

"_Yay_!" Sora said, clapping her hands together. "I'll see you there. Be safe, honey. The rain is heavy, today. You might be looking, but no one else is."

Sanji's lips fell into a tight line as he attributed that to his current problem. Why would Law look for him after what Sanji did? And it wasn't as if he had anything to give anyway. Sora was gone, and the world felt a little darker than it did earlier.


	2. While We Wait For It

**2: While We Wait For It**

* * *

Entering his childhood home, Sanji felt heavy with reluctance and dread as old sights revealed itself with frightening clarity. The halls were as big as he remembered them, windows blocking out the constant sounds of the street noises outside, the wood floors creaky as usual. Everything about it was preserved in such a way that it seemed lost in time – caught within a vortex of thin air and unexplained noises.

The lights were all on, the television was blaring noisily in the living room and den, and he heard the sound of heavy footfalls coming from the floor above him.

Sanji drew in a deep, calming breath and slowly, as quietly as he could, shut the door behind him. He dripped rainwater down onto the mat, his hair cold and damp, clinging to his cold skin like a living thing. He reached up and brushed shaking fingers through the undercut before shaking out the tale of his ponytail. He cleaned the lenses with his jacket sleeve before slipping on his glasses.

There was activity coming from the kitchen, so he slowly ventured towards that direction. His hands slid with heavy reluctance into his jacket pockets and his chest racketed with apprehension.

The kitchen floors had been ripped up, revealing newer pieces of wood and cement underneath. The roll of tile and stone tiles abandoned near the dining room told Sanji of the contractors' hasty departure. Tools lay forgotten, still attached to outlets. The air was thick with lingering dusts and the smell of freshly cut wood. He ended up sneezing, the cook turning to look at him as he stood against a gleaming stove that wasn't there when Sanji used to live here.

"Look at you," Zeff murmured, lips curling with distaste. "Didn't I tell ya you'd be starving?"

"I look this way because of that," Sanji snapped at him, lowering his bag to a counter that was dusty and chalked with leftover remnants of stacked stone tiles. "Lost all the damn weight and then some, old man. Look at this place. What are you doing with it?"

Zeff scoffed, leaning against the stove. Sanji reflected briefly that the man was just as brilliant and massive as he was when he was a child – the older man had passed away from an aneurysm – a sudden death in the midst of preparing dinner for the Vinsmokes. He remembered feeling horrified watching the old man continue to work while his body lay on the floor. He remembered the terrified shrieks of his siblings and his parents trying to calm them.

Well, Sora did – Judge was cursing a storm as he called for the paramedics; angry at Zeff for scarring his children with his unexpected death. Sora's ghostly words and actions went unnoticed. She'd joined in the crying that night, helpless to comfort her children. It was a scarring memory.

"Look around you. None of it belongs here," Zeff said, shaking his head with disdain. "These modernize things and their computers – all ya need is a knob and a timer – "

"That's an expensive looking stove. I'm sure it has…all of them…"

"And look at this floor? Ruined it. Tile? Stone? Bad mixture of taste."

Sanji looked down at the uncompleted floor. The island nearby was shoved up against the sink and various cabinets. The kitchen was obviously in a state of misuse – the trashcan was full of takeout. He mused that if he opened the fridge, he'd seen abandoned jars and empty jugs, with rotting leftovers in clear containers.

"I'm sure it'll look nice once it's completed," he said low.

"I don't like it. It's interrupting my duties!"

"You have no one to cook for!" Sanji reminded him impatiently, adjusting his thin-wire glasses over his nose. There was a bounding of feet on the stairway, and he gave a rugged sigh as his mood dropped low. "Anyway, mom sent me. Says I should talk some sense into you."

"That woman…" Zeff trailed off with a helpless shake of his head. He glanced back at Sanji. "Can't be in all places at once, can she?"

"I thought I smelt you coming in through those doors." His older brother, Niji, snickered as he strolled into the kitchen. Zeff shook his head with impatience as Niji looked Sanji up and down with a smirk, and Sanji tried not to let that expression bother him. In one hand was a chocolate bar – one of those 2 pound things that no human being should be eating by themselves in one sitting. It seemed misplaced against the Armani suit he was wearing – the scarf wrapped around his throat looked even more jarring.

"Look at you. God, you look _terrible_," Niji continued, shaking his blue bang. His head shook stiffly from side to side. Sanji wondered if their father ever wondered where his expensive tartan scarf had disappeared to. Niji never liked to confessed to his misdeeds. "What look were you going for? Hobo? You succeeded. Can't you do something better with the money dear old mother left you?"

Sanji didn't answer him. His brothers, his father – they were the reasons why his words caught in his throat.

Niji chewed on his chocolate bar, eyebrow lifted. "What is going on with that hair? Seriously, you're a mess. You belong in the trash. Heave yourself in there, save us the trouble of taking you out."

"Hi, Sanji," Reiju said, appearing near the doorway with a pleasant look to her face as she leaned against the doorframe. She finished wrapping a fluffy pink robe over the dress Sanji caught a glimpse of. "It's nice to see you."

"_Lies_."

Sanji nodded in her direction, then looked to Zeff. Zeff wore an expression of distaste as the doorbell rang, and another heavy set of footsteps clamored down from the upstairs. From the weight of them, they belonged to his father. Sanji lightly flicked his hair from his face as Reiju left to investigate the visitor for herself.

He looked to Niji, eyes dropping to the chocolate bar momentarily. "How have your teeth not rotted from your skull, yet?"

After chewing, Niji replied, "I'd give you a bite, but I'd hate to catch your germs."

"Children, enough," Zeff muttered from the stove, turning to face it once more. He ended up picking it up by the edges and rattled it with impatience, causing Niji to startle. He nearly dropped his chocolate bar as Sanji walked around him to confront the angry ghost.

"Zeff," he said patiently, "don't do this. Come to my place."

"Your place isn't something that requires me being there," Zeff said stubbornly, and Sanji withdrew his phone from his inside jacket pocket. He swiped through photos, showing them to the ghost as Niji complained in the background about Sanji's weirdness bothering him.

"This kitchen is big enough for the both of us."

"It looks stupid and sloppy. Couldn't afford a nicer place? Look at it. Barely used."

"Still talk to people that aren't there?" Niji asked smarmily, causing Sanji to look at him with obvious contempt. "They come to your place?"

Sanji ignored his question. "Look, old man – there will be no complaints. You can do whatever you want there."

"I don't belong there," Zeff muttered, dismissing the pictures. "This place here is my place. This is my home. This is my life."

"There is no one here that appreciates your cooking more than I do," Sanji said, tucking his phone away. "I did. I have."

"And yet you look like this."

Sanji couldn't deny his appearance, wearing a disgruntled frown as the cook rattled the stove once again. Sanji frowned up at him, feeling frustrated with the older ghost. Zeff returned the look with a stubborn one of his own while Niji crammed the last of his chocolate bar into his mouth.

Reiju hurried in, eyes bright with excitement. "The priest is here!" she whispered, causing both brothers to wear matching skeptical expressions. Zeff huffed, thick arms crossing over his barrel chest.

"A man of God has some balls to enter a devils lair," he scoffed, causing Sanji's eye to twitch. "Loyal servants have no place here."

Sanji pressed his lips tight as Reiju added in a whisper, "The priest is so _hot_ ...! Is that okay for me to say?"

"You're going to melt for that," Niji scoffed, hands flying to the back of his head to support it as Judge's voice carried out with his stiff fluster over how many contractors had left the place scared out of their minds.

"I'll send this liar right out after them," Zeff vowed, hands lowering to his sides as Sanji watched his sister wiggle with anticipation.

The three of them watched at Judge entered first - the priest followed after him and Sanji's face froze as Reiju bit her lower lip and struggled to suppress a grin. Niji's face changed to scorn as he looked over the priest's frock and somehow obscenely good looks. He carried what looked like a circular carrying case – most common for banners at a trade show – that was scarred and faded. The strap crossing over his chest was bright red with what looked like little crosses decorated over it. The lid seemed like it was crafted with some thin strips of fur (_he's not a vegan_!).

_I've been fucking a _priest? Sanji thought with horror as Law wore a pleasant expression as he examined the half-finished kitchen. But his smile froze ever so slightly when his eyes met Sanji's. He seemed to twitch before resuming that pleasant look. He did reach up to adjust the collar at his tattooed neck.

Judge noticeably stumbled at the sight of Sanji standing there. His eyes dropped to his son with clear disdain, but he recovered quickly. The man had grown much older since Sanji had last seen him – his hair more grey than golden, his face expressive with wrinkles. Somehow, he was less bold than he'd ever been – somehow withered.

Law seemed to curve his lips differently when he looked to Sanji and Sanji was instantly suspicious.

"That is no man of God," Zeff scoffed. "Just another scheming prick in a costume. Casing the place to rob this dumb ass blind. He'd deserve it, too."

Sanji licked his lips, struggling to repress silencing the ghost. Zeff was so _loud_ \- so obvious; it felt like Judge could hear the old man quite clearly, but Sanji knew that Judge wouldn't be able to. But he also noticed Law's eyebrow lift with mirth, and both Sanji and Zeff froze because both of them had the similar thought that Law had heard him too.

"Ya can hear me, can't ya?" Zeff stated with barely kept surprise.

Law looked at Judge, withdrawing a rosary from one of his pockets. Sanji noticed that he was wearing his motorcycle boots underneath that ankle length sheath, and his curled eyebrows drew together with more suspicion.

"You were correct in contacting me, Mr Vinsmoke," Law then said, using a voice that was surprisingly humble and smooth. Sanji never heard that before. But Reiju bit her lip again and Niji seemed to snort. "The devil's servant is strong, here. Fortunately, I'm experienced in removing strong types of scum from cracked surfaces. The others tend to call me Mr Clean behind their cupped hands. The Lord's strength is strong in me - I will apply it today, and your contractors will be able to work by the earliest hour possible tomorrow."

Judge's face twitched ever so slightly as Zeff barked out a laugh, turning away from the scene. He reached up and slammed a cabinet door open and shut.

Despite Niji's earlier bravado, he lurched forward and hastily left the kitchen. Reiju hurried after him with a gracious smile thrown at Law. Sanji scowled back at Zeff then watched with a pout as Judge cleared his throat nervously and nodded. _He should be used to the racket_, Sanji thought, but the man was either rattled by the sight of his estranged son standing there, or by the fact that he'd been caught in the act of desperation.

Zeff had been a noisy intruder for years – for Judge to finally bow down and admit that he was problem by drawing in outside forces to help him told Sanji that he'd grown weak throughout the years.

It was actually a relief for Sanji to acknowledge that of his father.

"Sure, uh...that sounds wonderful, uh...father," Judge said with a stammer, Law smiling at him with support. He unhitched the carrying case from his back and set it down against the kitchen island while Judge wore a somewhat nervous expression.

"I'd advise you to take yourself out for some supper," Law then said, fiddling with the rosary before pulling out a small bottle with a large, silver cross attached to it from his frock pocket. He opened it, and lightly tossed the contents in the area Zeff was standing. "This exorcism might take awhile, and could get quite dangerous."

Zeff sniffed the air, then elbowed Sanji. "That ain't no Holy Water, brat," he said as Sanji caught himself hastily. "Your sister prefers that brand of vodka."

"Uh, if you can, father," Judge added nervously. "My...my son here...if he can be blessed as well? He's, well, he hears these things, too. Though he's touched with that schizophrenia, your blessing might help some."

Sanji scoffed at him, then glared at Law as Law smiled pleasantly at him.

"I can _definitely_ bless your son," he said smoothly. "God will put his loving hands on him, tonight. Leave no inch ungrasped by His love and light."

Unsure if how to take that, Judge nodded. He set a warning stare at Sanji before he, too, left the kitchen. Zeff snorted as Law bid him farewell, Sanji looking up at the ghost with irritation.

"Now look at what your actions have caused," he admonished.

"Stay with me, boy," Zeff told him, wiping his hands together. "After I run off this poser, I'll feed ya something rich and delicious. Get some meat on those bones."

Sanji made to respond when Law said, "You've made your last meal here, cook. The only thing you'll be making soon is a wish towards the devil for almost giving me away."

Both Zeff and Sanji gaped at him, Law looking up at Zeff deliberately as he ventured close. He pulled the Holy Water bottle to his mouth and took a sip, whistling with amazement as it burned its way down his throat.

"The alter boys sure know their stuff," he said in appraisal before capping it. He braced a palm on the kitchen island with the other on his hip. He looked to Sanji accusingly. "You mentioned nothing about being a Vinsmoke, mouse."

Sanji frowned at him as Zeff stepped to his side, using an elbow to jostle him. "You know this piece of shit?"

"We know each other...inside and out," Law answered him. He added cheekily, "Mostly inside."

Sanji reddened with humiliation. "We...we do, we do know each other, but...I..."

"I left that night because you were half right," Law then told Sanji with a shrug. "But I forgive you, my child. This child of God forgives you for your ignorance."

"You're _no_ priest," Sanji uttered with disbelief.

"Fuck no I'm not," Law confirmed, pulling at his collar. He ventured towards Sanji, reaching out to brush his hair from his face. "Not around you. You can make a man want to drown in impurity with those sexy, hooded eyes of yours."

Mortified, Sanji jerked out of his touch while Zeff stared at them with mystification. Sanji looked at him helplessly, shaking his head vigorously with denial.

"So, you _do_ know this jerk?" Zeff confirmed with incredulity.

Ignoring the question, Sanji demanded of Law, "What are you doing here? How do you know my father, his family?"

"_Your_ family?" Law corrected, tucking the bottle back into his pocket.

"Once removed," Sanji muttered bitterly. He gestured at his head. "Got that touch of schizo in here. So he thinks I'm crazy and…"

Law gave him a sympathetic look. "I experienced it the night I fled your smothering arms." He appraised the kitchen with a low whistle. "Your father was desperate. Calling out for an exorcism on forum frequented with…interesting people. I answered the call. The money he offered will feed my small, poor village for weeks. Or maybe two days, considering their filthy habits..."

Sanji scowled at him, reddening as he fiddled with his fingers. Law then looked to Zeff. "Shall we proceed? We can do this the easy way, or my way. Each way belongs to a decision I make, unfortunately. I give options for the sake of the chase."

"What do you mean?" Sanji demanded.

Zeff scoffed. "Ain't nothing ya got that I'm afraid of, shit head. I belong here. Get your dumb ass back on the road, claim your money, and I'll go quiet until they fix this shit. But I ain't going nowhere."

Law pulled the carrying case towards him, opening it up with a light huff. But he was grinning as he withdrew his _nodachi_, the steel blade gleaming in the light as Sanji and Zeff caught sight of it. The handle with its purple ribbons, the fur lined handguard and imposing steel slightly curved seemed almost comedic with his priest's frock. But it seemed to gleam dangerously, causing Sanji's blood to ice with something he couldn't identify.

"I'd hoped for a fight," Law then purred.

"Wait wait _wait_," Sanji said hastily, standing in front of Zeff as Law rose to his feet. The blade in his hand looked quite intimidating - half the man's size. It didn't make sense that it fit in that circular case. "No, _wait_. I can fix this, talk sense into him."

"Out of the way, boy," Zeff muttered, pushing his sleeves up.

"I can't kill humans, but ghosts are definitely my thing," Law said, looking up to the ceiling. He pressed his forehead against the back of the slightly curved blade, exhaling slow. "Ah, Heavenly Father, in thine name I pray...give me strength, Lord, O Father, for the wicked mauling I also intend on rewarding myself with after I send this old man to your path, my lord..."

Sanji didn't move, but he watched as Law lowered the blade to his side, wearing that crooked smile he had when he was the predator. For a moment, Sanji's stomach jostled with familiar excitement, but now wasn't the time for that. He gave a shake of his head.

"So, you see ghosts," he stated slowly. "You…can see them and interact with them."

"Mostly."

"But not very well," Sanji continued.

Law rested the blade against one shoulder as Zeff loomed over Sanji like some sort of power force. He could see that the cook emitted some sort of grayish, light from his form – could feel the rise of excitement inside of him knowing that the power he'd taken from this ghost would be immense. Zeff's strength would fuel his own supernatural abilities for some time.

He wasn't sure how to answer the statement Sanji had made – an inkling of suspicion began to cool that enthusiasm.

"I mean, I see ghosts," Law reteiterated. "_Easily_."

"But not _all_ of them."

Law tapped the blade against his shoulders. "Admittedly, perhaps my vision isn't as clear as yours, but I can."

Sanji crossed his arms over his chest with a frown.

Law froze. "Wait. Are _you_ a ghost…?"

"Unfortunately not."

Law bent over with relief. "Oh, _thank god_. For a moment, I'd thought myself crazy that I'd been fucking a ghost."

Sanji reddened with humiliation as he felt Zeff's bewildered look.

"What's this ass saying, shit head?" Zeff demanded of him. "That's the second indication - !"

"Oh? Was that a secret?" Law asked lazily, straightening up. "Sanji, move aside. This'll only take a second – "

"After him, will you go after the others?" Sanji asked him curiously. "Zeff's not the only ghost in this dump."

Law faltered for a few moments, then allowed an expression of confusion.

"My siblings. They're ghosts, too. They died years ago, and yet you didn't even bother to notice them. Father can't see them, but he knows they're here. Which is why he's left everything as is." Sanji noted Law's stuttered reaction, which allowed Sanji to relax ever so slightly. "It makes sense that you hadn't addressed them when you walked in here. So your vision is limited."

Law's lips pursed, but his eyes snaked from side to side, as if looking for the two that had departed earlier.

Zeff scoffed once more, turning to open various cabinets. His search for ingredients was so loud and clear that it rattled the sudden silence with the revelation. One of the opened cabinets revealed a stack of recently purchased chocolate bars – their grotesque size causing Sanji to shake his head.

His father denied, denied, denied – but he still supplied his home with the things his children loved.

From the freezer, Zeff withdrew a bottle of vodka, and the liquid sloshed with apparent near emptiness. But Sanji noticed that three others were stocked there as well. Reiju's habit hadn't quieted at all with her death – her father had noticed the afterlife but had denied it vigorously to himself despite the evidence. Further shutting Sanji out of his life with the useless gestures.

Sanji exhaled, shaking his head. Zeff set the bottle down onto the counter with a clatter.

"Admittedly," Law said low, watching the bottle with a lazy sort of examination, "maybe mine isn't as strong as yours. But it's not to say that it's less than what you can do."

Sanji felt his jaw clench as he thought back to all their meetings, all the times early in the morning that he'd willingly sat and listened to the other man's random ramblings. Neither of them admitted any type of ability to each other in these conversations. Nothing personal – familiar strangers united only in needs only.

He didn't know what to say, but he thought he felt a little betrayed.

_Maybe I didn't matter as much as I thought I did_, he thought with some painful reflection.

"Father lives in a house of ghosts," he murmured. "Leave the old man alone. He might be stupid, but he's harmless."

"_Hey_," Zeff complained, looking back at him.

Law considered Sanji's words. He glanced at Zeff, observing the ghost's stubborn expression before straining his ears for any sign of the others Sanji claimed was here. When he'd walked into the kitchen with Judge, he'd only seen Sanji and Zeff. No one else. But his vision did that, sometimes. To think Sanji could see all of them – well. That changed things a bit. His mind tried to flash back to the violent memories that he kept locked away; sounds and images tugging fruitlessly from their cages.

He considered his options for several moments, then looked to Sanji. "Can you hear these things through long distances?"

Puzzled by the question, Sanji considered what Law could have meant. "Hear…their voices, say…from my apartment to here?"

Law nodded.

After glancing at Zeff, Sanji shook his head. "No. They know where I am. Only one can wander the furthest."

"Why?"

Sanji thought that was a dangerous question. Something in him wanted to protect his mother. Only two of his siblings had died in the same house as Zeff and Sora had. The other two…well…

He gave Law a stubborn look, his eyes a wall of his own. Law recognized his own sort of stubbornness in that expression. It pleased him, his face lighting up with an amused smile.

"_That_ one isn't here, are they?" Law asked.

Zeff looked to Sanji. "Keep that mouth shut, boy. This one is fishing for something."

"I know," Sanji murmured. "I'm sorting out my options here."

Law grinned brightly. He lowered his sword. "There's a reason why I kept coming back to you. You kept this from me. Let me be the fool. Any man that stimulates my mind as much as they stimulate my body is a man I want to marry."

"_Enough_ of your shit," Zeff snapped at him while Sanji reddened with his own mortification and shame.

"I'll go," Law offered, sheathing his sword back into the circular carrying case and zipping up the top. It still didn't make any sense how something so long could be kept into something shorter than arm's length. "As long as you treat this man to a warm meal and tell me more about your abilities."

Sanji felt reluctant to invite this man anywhere. Not after what he'd learned, and not because Law was forcing his way back into his life, again. He thought about changing the lock to his apartment.

"You can't lock me out," Law then said, as if hearing his thoughts. "You already invited me in."

"Are you a vampire?"

"I have this tan line that suggests otherwise…"

"I have dinner to make," Zeff told Sanji impatiently. "Get this joker out of here."

Sanji glanced back at him reluctantly, unnerved by the pat of the cook's hand on his shoulder. It felt like Zeff was assuring him, but he didn't understand why. But he shrugged his shoulders, walking away to grab his bag. He gave Zeff a nervous look as Law led the way out, withdrawing his rosary to shake at the walls.

He only paused against the staircase because his senses were tingling. Despite that small warning, he couldn't see the woman standing there, pink lips curved in a light smile.

"Wait for me," Law murmured low, hearing Sanji speak to Zeff. "I'll be back later."

Reiju smiled, but it wasn't a friendly smile. But Law couldn't see that. He just knew that he was heard.

"Bless this house, bless this house," Law then said aloud, clearly mocking the term. "And all its inhabitants in here."

Sanji noticed Law didn't see Reiju smiling brightly at him as he passed by, nor Niji standing on the stairs, sneering down at him. He looked to Zeff again.

"Leave," he advised. "And take them with you."

"And go where? This is _my_ home," Zeff insisted. "And _they_ will be fine. Nothing can hurt us anymore."

Unsure of that, Sanji frowned at him but slowly followed after the other man. He felt dread, but he didn't know why.


	3. We Feel All Of It

**3: We Feel All Of It**

* * *

Law scowled down at the plate in front of him, his face reflecting a childish disdain for what the waitress sat down. Sanji watched him, stirring his coffee lightly with a spoon. The diner was sparsely populated, the voices at a low murmur while the kitchen bustled noisily at the hands of one cook. The tired waiter ignored Law's petulant expression and walked off with a limp.

_If you can hear me_, Sanji thought desperately of his mother, _please don't come_. _Go to Zeff. Please go to Zeff_.

"I wanted you to cook me something," Law muttered, eyes lifting towards the other man across from him. He was still wearing the frock – the collar stark against his thick neck. "Death" was visible just within that line. "Don't you work at a damn restaurant?"

Sanji felt like all his energy had been sucked out of him – the Vinsmoke place often did. He wasn't sure why – maybe the collective ghostly energy had a hand in it. Or perhaps his body, malnourished and disregarded, had just reached its limit. He stared out the window instead, Law muttering, "Feh," in response to the food that caught his attention.

It felt awkward all of a sudden. Suddenly Sanji realized that this man was a stranger -he didn't know him at all. The streets were mostly empty of pedestrians at this point – the rain just kept coming. The headlights of passing cars were just enough to cut through the dreary darkness of the streets. Lights flickered in automatic motion, but their soft glow seemed dim against the falling rain.

His skin pimpled with a renewed chill as Law picked up his fork. Sanji noticed that it was "vegan" fare – after seeing what he had, his eyes drew heavy with irritation.

"You're not a priest, and you're not a vegan," he stated low. "So what are you?"

Law looked at him with an expression of hurt. Hand to his chest, he said, "Sanji. You wound me with your careless words."

"Shut up."

Law set the fork down. He'd asked for a meatless dish, and the waiter had just placed down a platter of pancakes, eggs, sausage and a flat biscuit down in front of him. While his appetite was monstrous, he couldn't bring himself to eat such tired, wilted food. He picked up the bottle of "Holy Water" he had been nursing, taking another measured sip. The vodka made his eyes water.

After measuring Sanji's mood and the state of the situation, he folded his hands on the table. "I'm a ghost hunter."

Sanji raised a skeptical curled eyebrow. "Like the guys on tv?"

"No." After a few moments of consideration, Law added, "Like the two brothers on that show. Only…not as nice. And I have no siblings to carry on an intimate affair with."

It took Sanji a few moments to understand the answer, and he folded his arms over his chest. "Why were you only able to see Zeff and not the other two?"

Law wagged a finger at him. "No. This conversation isn't about me. This is about you. You told me the other night – "

"Two months ago."

Law amended himself without pause. "You told me two months ago that you see ghosts. I know this. I watched you talk to them. But it appears I can only see…a certain type of ghost."

Sanji didn't understand because most of his life was seeing and hearing every ghost that crossed his path. He didn't notice anything different about any of them.

Law watched his expressions move. He noticed that Sanji only said "siblings" – the name Vinsmoke was a big one because that was a rich family marred by tragedy. He just did not put any research into it. All he saw when Penguin brought up the background information was "Vinsmoke Son Killed In Tragic Accident" before he'd lost interest. He knew there were more of them, but was kicking himself for not listening to the rest of the tale. To know that Sanji was part of this family – well, it spurred his interest.

Sanji lived in a corner apartment nearby – one with brick walls, cold windows, sparse furniture and while he claimed to work in a restaurant, all his appliances and electronics were very upscale. There were bottles of wine older than the younger man's father stacked in the kitchen corner. There were paintings worth thousands hung up on the wall. Yet this man dressed shabbily and without regards to his physical attractiveness like he was just trying to disappear.

He tilted his head. "Death in the family is such a tragic backstory. But it appears you have no warmth for them."

Sanji couldn't tell if Law were mocking him or expressing an awkward sympathy for him. So he steeled his features. "I don't. It's no secret."

"Because your father thinks you're schizo?"

"Partly."

"Were you able to see ghosts all your life?" Law then asked, leaning back in his seat.

"Yes."

"And talking to them – that's a common thing. They speak out, you hear, they're annoying enough to answer."

"Yes."

"But…that's it?"

Sanji lifted his eyebrow again. "What else is there supposed to be?"

"What do you gain from it?"

"Nothing. Just insanity, I suppose."

"Those trinkets in your apartment…even if you lost your job, you wouldn't be hurting for money."

Sanji exhaled steadily, using the warmth of his coffee to warm his fingers. But he did not break eye contact. "My mother willed her money to her children – if one should pass, the others were to receive it equally. I inherited it all two years ago."

Law smirked. "Did you do it?"

"I sometimes wish I was that cruel and callous after all the shit they put me through, but alas…fate took them all. My father despises me for it."

"Why aren't you living out the country with bounties of beautiful women and useless yachts?"

Sanji snorted. "What were you going to do with Zeff? With that…what, is that sword formed from the Vatican's holiest of waters?"

"No. Enough about me. You have a grip on ghosts, more so than just seeing them," Law said slowly, capping the bottle and slipping it back into his frock. "You see…_all_ the ghosts. I see some of them. Maybe together…"

He trailed off suggestively, looking at Sanji with consideration while Sanji frowned at him.

"What's in it for you?" Sanji then asked, ignoring the suggestion. "Besides the money. The money doesn't interest you if you're willing to splurge on a 'small village'. You reek of alcohol and smoke but you don't smoke. You wear trash from both thrift store and name brand store. Those earrings are solid gold. Tattoos are expensive. And your hair is always…fashionably styled, which suggests upkeep. Also, your manpurse there is a custom design piece – that isn't plastic. The fur is fox – "

"Foxes are _cute_," Law murmured, staring at him.

" – artic snow fox. It's not the money from the gigs you're finding on some…phantom forum, but old money. Like mine. You don't do drugs, but sometimes…just sometimes, your eyes are a little too wild and manic. Sometimes you're mute because it seems that words are too heavy. Sometimes…your hands tremble when you touch me. Sometimes, even the scent of your body is not the same scent that I'd smelled the last time – almost…sometimes it's almost as if I'm smelling someone different." Sanji watched his petulant expression return, the other man's body language changing subtly once these truths were revealed.

"The only reason we got along well together," Sanji added in a murmur, "is because both of us are slightly insane. So enough of the bullshit and just tell me straight – what's in it for you?"

Law tongued at the inside of his cheek. He pushed the plate aside so the waiter could retrieve it. "Who is that whispering in your ear?"

The woman pushed away from behind Sanji's seat with a light smile. Law couldn't see her, but he saw Sanji's slightly surprised look, which told Law that he was correct to assume this. She bent low and continued whispering into Sanji's ear, Sanji watching Law's eyes dart from shoulder to shoulder and lifting away with some obvious distrust.

"The bar on Third Street," Sanji spoke aloud, "is a bar that doesn't cater to regular drinkers. It's a headquarters. _Ugh_. The Polar Tang?"

Law chuckled. "Well. I guess the secret's out."

"Stupid name for a bar."

"It might be. But Jean Paul serves only the best liquor. My vices aren't that glamourous. But it's enough to drown out the sounds."

"…From the locked boxes in your head?"

Law's jaw tightened as he pinned Sanji with a look. The woman straightened away from Sanji, patting his shoulder before walking away. It took all Sanji had not to look after her, to reveal her to the other man. But he inwardly thanked Robin for her knowledge – the woman, dressed in mid-century clothing of the late 1800's and a forever bloom of red at her temple was a fountain of information. She always chose to whisper information into his ear whenever he least expected it, and apparently, he needed it now.

_Please don't come_, he thought again of his mother.

Law considered other options, but he drummed his fingers atop of the table. "Join my crew."

"I don't need to make money off death."

"It's not killing ghosts, Sanji. It's allowing them a way into the light."

"If they didn't want to, they don't have to go," Sanji returned, thinking of his mother's refusal to go.

"Some of them should. Some of them are…dangerous."

"Zeff makes loud noises and loves that kitchen. But he's not dangerous. So what sort of ghosts are you talking about?"

"The kind that kills the living, Sanji. Have you had the luck of not running into one of those?"

Sanji stared back at him blankly. But he lowered his fingers to the table, to fiddle with his spoon. Law smirked at him.

"Along with all the good ghosts that whisper in your ear, there are those that draw the breath from you. The kind that pins you down at night, to choke you. There's also the kind that will rob you blind if you aren't aware of it. Not of your material valuables – but of your life. _Those_ are the ones I'm after."

"I've…never met one."

"Where is your mother, Sanji?" Law then asked him, sitting up straight. Sanji looked at him with alarm. "I won't hurt her."

"None of your business."

"There are certain ghosts that can…give back when I…guide them. If you haven't run into these types of particular ghosts…I bet your mother has a lot to do with it."

Unwillingly, Sanji saw images of his mother glaring at ghosts that had intended to intercept him. But he also understood that Law was not telling him everything.

Robin was once again at his ear, and he watched Law frown at him as her whisper caused his forehead to furrow with puzzlement. Both of them watched Law turn uncomfortable as he exhaled and decided that this thread would go nowhere. Sanji was protective of his mother, and Law guessed that Sora Vinsmoke had a gleam like the sun.

"Let me offer you something," Law then said, reaching up to remove the collar to his frock. He tossed that aside, then ripped the garment off. There were price tags from a costume store still clinging to the tag. He revealed an open collar shirt that dipped low enough to reveal pieces of his chest tattoo. The stark white material was crisp and cared for. A loosened tie dangled from that like a careless noose. An expensive smartwatch adored his wrist. He could've come straight from some business office, or a wedding (_but with motorcycle boots_?).

"Join me on a hunt," he offered with a tilt of his head. "Something of our own arrangement. So you can meet these vicious things. See for yourself why people like me exist."

"Sounds stupid," Sanji muttered, eyes focused on the table while Robin kept her hand on his shoulder and continued to watch Law with a silent, stiff expression. Sanji felt unsettled, confused – Law removed ghosts to become one himself. He had so many questions. _Why_? His eyes flitted to the other man with a troubled frown on his lips. He wanted to ask but he felt it wasn't the right time.

But before Law could persist in his offer, Sanji asked with some effort, "Has the power you've taken warped your sense of morals?"

Law blinked. But his face stiffened and a tinge of red blasted his cheeks. He rose immediately from the table. "_Who_ are you talking to?"

"Why are you angry?" Sanji asked with surprise, having never seen this side of the other man.

"Who's the bitch whispering in your ear? Yeah, a _bitch_, some fucked up snitch that thinks they know more than me about this shit. Someone's _telling_ you shit, and I can't even defend myself!"

Flustered by the show of temper, Sanji stared up at him with alarm. But by this time, other diners were looking in their direction. Sensing the attraction of attention, Law paced in a half circle around their table, angry hands balling into fists before shoving deep into jeans pockets. He practically flung himself back onto the chair, seething as he struggled to keep his temper in check. He glared at Sanji the whole time, the blond blinking bewildered eyes at him from behind the lenses of his glasses.

Another examination of the area around Sanji gave Law nothing, but Robin was smirking with satisfaction towards him, arms crossed primly over her stomach.

"No man in control of himself would act so flashy to deny the truth," she murmured, Sanji furrowing his eyebrows once more. "Ask his age."

"How old are you?" Sanji asked almost immediately. Law tongued the back of his teeth as he considered the question.

It frustrated him that this mouse of a man knew so many things of himself that he'd hidden away. Only his crew knew some of the answers – not all. But just enough to trust in him.

Aware that his temper wasn't fixing anything, Law exhaled slowly. He reached over and grabbed his carrying case – fondling the fur encircling the lid. He then pinned a thoughtful look at Sanji, who timidly waited his answer.

Sanji shook his head ever so slightly. "Please don't say you're a vampire," he whispered.

"What is with you and vampires?" Law asked with exasperation.

"His age, Sanji," Robin said curtly.

Sanji licked his lips. He swallowed and then asked, "How old are you? Why is that such a hard answer to give?"

"Twenty-six."

"For how long?" Robin supplied.

"…For…for…how long?" Sanji repeated on a stammer.

Law clenched his teeth and shook his head ever so slightly. "Does it matter?"

Sanji closed his eyes, feeling overwhelmed. He glanced around them, noting that the diners had returned their attention to their tables, but they were all straining to listen.

"_Jesus_," he muttered with his own exasperation. "How the hell did I ever get involved with you?"

"It's the other way around, Sanji. I chose you." Law had to smile because that part was true. He gathered his case to him and slung that over one shoulder. "I'll come see you later."

With an apprehensive glance around, he added, "_Alone_. Think about my offer."

With that he turned and left the restaurant, and Sanji found himself looking at the untouched plate Law had left behind. The waiter was looking right at him with a pointed look, and Sanji exhaled with exasperation. He pulled out his wallet from his bag and counted out some bills. Setting that underneath the plate, he finished his coffee. Robin sat across from him as the waiter came over to take the cash and clear away the abandoned plate.

"_Those_ ones live as long as they can from the ghosts that gleam," she told Sanji stoically. "Some ghosts have it – most don't. They add life to the one he has. It gives them…added abilities. He has those abilities. Unfortunately, he forgets who he is with the accumulation of other souls."

"Would explain some things," Sanji murmured thoughtfully. "I'd just thought he was…sometimes it was difficult figuring out what personality was coming to the bed -"

He cut himself off rapidly and said just as fast, "But how you do know all this?"

"I've been around," Robin answered with an amused smile. The forever bloom of color that left gunpowder pricks on her smooth skin and a hole that he couldn't see through was almost distracting from her beauty. She wore it like a fashion accessory. "Seen enough. The group at the Polar Tang has the same problems as he does. He's learned to distribute his abilities to them as well. Each ghost he takes, he pulls in their energy to allow him some abilities that have distorted his human form and takes away his own soul. A superhuman, almost. Your door locks mean nothing to him, by the way."

Sanji thought that this was how Law managed to wrangle into his apartment. It was both disturbing and annoying at the same time. "But…not vampires."

"No." Robin gave him a curious look. "Why vampires?"

"Oh, I just…" Sanji trailed off with a shrug, fiddling with his cold coffee. "Just be weird getting close to a dude that ends up being a vampire...sucking out my blood and having tons of sex and just…there's _so_ many questions…"

"Son? You okay?" the waiter asked him skeptically, looking over where Robin sat and seeing absolutely nothing there. Sanji flushed, and nodded. He gathered his things together while Robin smiled up at him, waving her fingers as 'goodbye'.

: :

The computer screen's brightness had to be adjusted. Shachi did that while Law squinted at the screen, Penguin impatiently settling his glasses over his eyes.

"Vinsmoke Son Killed In Tragic Accident" was the headline, and in that picture was a picture of Niji Vinsmoke, smiling for the cameras.

"They labeled autoerotic asphyxiation as a 'tragic accident'?" Law mused, reading the details. Niji was found hanging in his bathroom at home – the police investigation showed photos that revealed the gruesome scene. The second Vinsmoke son had a neck that was stretched, purpled and broken as he hung from the shower head. The police had revealed in a more forgiving report that he'd slipped and fell. They said he'd broken his neck on the nearby toilet. Instantaneous death.

"He was _murdered_," Shachi sneered. "That dude's father wanted the dead wife's money. Once all his kids were wiped out, he'd get the share."

"Dude Vinsmoke didn't need lady Vinsmoke's money," Penguin scoffed.

Law looked at the other Vinsmoke tragedy, assuming it was Niji that was present in the house along with Zeff. Ichiji Vinsmoke was killed in a car accident – 116 mph on a city street, taking a corner much too fast. Alcohol was present – his blood tests revealed an alcohol level of 0.1. His brow furrowed – this was a level where someone just had a beer, so the alcohol shouldn't have been a factor at all. The only daughter was killed in the garage – carbon monoxide poisoning. She'd accidently fallen asleep after pulling up, automatic door closing right after. Apparently, she had been drinking excessively at a party earlier that night. Her dress had caught fire from a cigarette that had been left smoking in the middle console. The youngest Vinsmoke, Yonji, was shot in the back of the head from behind late one night as he left the Vinsmoke building – mere miles from where Ichiji had died. Yonji was robbed and abandoned to die on the sidewalk and wasn't found until the morning after despite it being a busy street.

"These fucking people were _murdered_," he said incredulously. "Shachi. Get the addresses off the locations of death and make a map."

Shachi hurried off to do so as Law looked at the articles with collective doubt. Penguin gave Law a disinterested look. "So why you looking into it? Can you get them?"

"I didn't see any of them while I was there," Law answered, minimizing screens. Then clamped his mouth shut. His sudden silence was suspicious enough for Penguin to look at him pointedly, gesturing for him to expand on it. "I have to go back later. The cook – he's got a bit of gleam to him."

"Just a 'bit'? From a _cook_?"

"The ones that have the gleam are the ones that can move the most shit. Poltergeist activity. They're the strongest. The ones that actively take lives…_they're_ the ones with the most gleam. And I think I found one," Law ended on a murmur, interested in the aspect. "These poor, _poor_ children died within very tragic circumstances…who would do such a thing? They're such upstanding citizens…"

Penguin rolled his eyes, reaching over him to maximize one of the screens. There was mention of Sora Vinsmoke, so he typed in her name and drew up the article of a woman that passed suddenly of aggressive breast cancer. His elbows were in Law's face so Law pushed him aside with a grunt.

"Her? Momma Vinsmoke? Where was she?" Penguin asked him.

"Ghosts can only take to the area where they've passed. And I've got very good word on Momma Vinsmoke being able to traverse that fact."

After some moments, Penguin tapped on the screen. In the single photo of Sora Vinsmoke, she had four boys at her feet and one girl at her side, hugging her waist. He tapped on Sanji. "Who is this guy? He looks like a murderer. Look at that face. That's pure serial killer material right there."

Law looked at it with interest. Three boys were looking stoically at the camera but Sanji's face was bright with a smile that mirrored his mother's. He felt his heart thump a bit as he rested hairy chin on palm. "What a _cutie_…"

"Enough with your pervy tendencies. What about this guy? Still live with his dad?"

"Not at all."

"_Bet_ you he's the guy that murdered them."

Law looked at him with some enthusiasm. He held out his hand in a shake. "Let's bet on it, then."

"What? No!"

"C'mon. This will be fun. I'll lose, so you're guaranteed a win."

"No! There's too much confidence in that statement, so I don't fucking trust you!"

"Here ya go!"

Shachi turned his monitor their way, where he'd applied a single red circle to each address of a Vinsmoke's death. With interest, Law and Penguin leaned forward to investigate it, Shachi looking at the picture with a huff.

"Here is the house," he said, tapping on the multi-story building. "Here is where Ichiji died. Here's where Yonji died."

Law noted that the address of Sanji's building lay directly in the center of this formation. Apparently, Sora had freedom to roam because her children were cast so far apart. A ghost with that much determination was certain to have that bright of a gleam. Bigger than Zeff's. And considering the circumstances…

He rubbed his chin. "I'm going back to the house. The old man should be asleep by now. I'll finish the job with the cook. Then…I'll meet you all later today to plan something…amazing."

"Later today - ? It's almost _two_ in the morning! Wait…are you seeing someone?"

"How dare you accuse me of something so lewd – _yes_, yes, I am. Pack the magnums for my magnum dong, please."

"Do it yourself!" they snapped at him in unison, abandoning their chairs and stomping out from the office, Law looking after them with insult. He could hear the music playing and the loud crowd, glasses clinking and smoke thick. The bar was hopping, and while it was always funny to see the chaos, something different was on Law's mind tonight.

This was suspicious – the Vinsmokes' tragic deaths _were_ suspicious. The way they died, the way only one child remained to inherit money – he looked back at the family photo of Sora with her children. Sanji had mentioned he had no love for his siblings; his mother obviously followed him around, protecting him…

It sounded to Law that Sora Vinsmoke was _exactly_ the type of ghost he was looking for.


	4. Wait

**4: Wait**

* * *

That night, Law unlocked the Vinsmoke mansion door and strolled in. The security alarm chirped only once until it ran with a code then fell silent. Shachi's doing – hopefully he remained sober long enough to turn it back on by the time Law left. The crew was already in the middle of their nightly boozing, and the Polar Tang had been rising with volume.

He could hear Judge's snoring from second floor. Glancing up at the nearby staircase, Law saw light coming down strong from that hallway – Judge probably slept with the light on as mild defense from the noises in the kitchen. Sword resting against one shoulder, Law ventured in that direction, waving his ghostly hand back to normalcy as he approached. Now that he was aware there were two Vinsmoke siblings in the place with the cook, he kept his senses open. It was surprising to learn after all this time that he was actually limited in his vision.

He flicked the light on in the kitchen, seeing Zeff leaning against the stove with his arms crossed over his chest; apparently waiting for him. Law felt his lips curl into a smirk.

"Ya planning on actually finishing the job?" Zeff asked at normal volume. His aged face looked unimpressed. "Let's see what ya got, shithead."

"This isn't against you in any way," Law said as apology, sword lowering to his side. He adjusted the tie around his neck, which he'd fixed previously before coming out to the mansion. The yellow jacket with furred hood was open to show a slightly damp shirt caused by the falling rain outside. His glasses were tucked into the pocket that was only slightly visible from behind the jacket's zipper. "All I'm doing is sending you to the light."

"Ain't no light out there. I go, _I go_," Zeff said firmly. "And that little shit will be without someone else in this world."

"I plan on being his new friend," Law assured him.

"It's easy not to care," Zeff said, "for someone that's been around for awhile. Having attachments would be wrong for you."

Law crooked an eyebrow. "For twenty-six years, of course."

Zeff gave him a look of reproach. "You been around longer than that…you a vampire?"

Exasperated, Law asked, "What is with you and Sanji about vampires?"

"They suck more than just blood from ya. And even if ya ain't sucking out blood, you're taking something else. Did anyone ever tell ya from the other side that they can't really see you? The real you. The original one. Every time ya move, I get the idea of it."

Law frowned at him. He shook his head ever so slightly.

"Ya don't even know which one is you, do ya?"

"I know who I am. I'm the one that's going to end it for you. Permanently."

"When ya take me, ya ain't gettin' anything fancy. But you'll use what I'm giving to get that boy some food."

Law found it laughable that a ghost would negotiate with him. He gave an amused nod, absolutely confident that he'd do no such thing. It just wasn't in him to be 'giving'. Just as Zeff said, people were temporary.

"All right," he lied smoothly with a shrug. "Whatever makes this easier."

Zeff watched him for a few moments, then asked, "You ain't going after those kids?"

"Why should I?"

"Ya can't see them, can ya?"

Law frowned, then decided he'd talked long enough. He lifted his sword, gripping it with both hands.

"They can't see me, either," Zeff said with finality, and Law paused. "Not all of us can interact."

"They just…wander around, missing each other?"

"I can see them. If that makes a difference. But he's the only one that can see all of us."

"Yes, he's…very talented."

Zeff smirked down at the ghost hunter. "Ya think he ain't already been seeing _all_ of you? Which is why ya need more jobs, don't ya? I saw you come through that door the way you did. Nasty little trick, but tricks catch up to you eventually."

"I've been actually pretty fine, old man. As strong as the day I started."

"Only certain types of us catch your eye. Which is why ya can't see _them_. Which might be a little troublesome for you, because they ain't helpless." Zeff frowned grimly at him. "You caught whiff of what he could do for ya, and latched onto him like a baby. People like you ain't no different from the ones that run up to him, lookin' for his help. But is it _you_looking for help, or one of the others you've already sucked down?"

Law's frown deepened. _Wait_, he then thought with realization. _He's drawing information out of me. For what? For _whom?

He turned to look behind himself, noting the light on the staircase. Now that he actually looked at it, it wasn't powered by electricity. It was a bright enough gleam to appear like candlelight, wavering and strong at the same time. It didn't cast any shadows.

He looked back at Zeff to dispatch of him, but the ghost was gone. Law grit his teeth, glancing around himself apprehensively. When he noticed, he looked back up at the stairway to see the light fading rapidly before disappearing entirely. He gripped his sword with frustration, then turned to head up that way. He took the steps silently, his legs disappearing just to prevent the sound. Parts of him wavered in and out of the light, the sword constant in his hands.

As he stepped onto the second floor, Judge's snores became louder. The darkness was dim, due to various windows allowing city light in, but he saw a shadow at the end of the hall. It belonged to a tall man, but Law couldn't see details. It stood in the doorway of Judge's bedroom like a silent sentinel – he knew it wasn't Zeff's because the cook was large, but this one was slender. Not a woman.

He noticed that from the shoulders to head was an unflattering swelling that he could only attribute to a scarf, so his lips spread slightly a knowing smile.

"Niji," he whispered in a taunt. "There ya are, Niji, m'boy."

Law then paused short, reacting with a shake of his head. That wasn't his voice. The ghost didn't respond, but seemed to fade into nothing. Law glanced around himself, nothing the various doors and narrow corridors that looked as if they were trapped in time. Something about them looked untouched and unused. Once he was full bodied, he took a step forward to pursue that silent ghost.

His boots crunched noisily on something that shattered and crunched loud enough to wake Judge. Law cringed, looking down to see glass shards belonging to a vodka bottle at his feet. The liquid pooled atop of the floor, the scent strong and causing his eyes to water. Phasing out his legs once more before making his way downstairs, Law intended on escaping before he could be caught. Judge turned on the lights in his room, bed shifting with his moving weight. With exasperation, Law hurriedly pulled his jacket hood on over his head, and let himself out.

He snatched up his carrying case from the doorframe, sheathing his sword inside as he hastily made his way down the front steps. He reached into his pocket to retrieve his cellphone, texting Shachi to turn on the alarm in five minutes, then headed towards Sanji's place.

: :

What he'd learned from Zeff kept his mind whirling all the way there. But the usage of his ghostly abilities had sapped him of strength, and while he wanted to talk more of this unusual situation, he barely had enough energy to make it there. He let himself into Sanji's apartment, set his carrying case down, and headed to the back bedroom. It was easy to think Law belonged there – there were too many nights when he'd barged in without invitation and just made himself at home there. It'd never occurred to him that this was wrong.

He threw his jacket onto the couch and kicked off his boots. Sanji was sleeping soundly on the left side of the bed, so Law crawled onto the right, settling into the warmth with a sigh of relief. All his limbs felt like jelly, but his mind was whirling with constant activity. The sound of the rain hitting the window panes was soothing, muted by the heavy curtains. But the corner apartment still carried with the sound, and Law stuffed his cold feet between the other man's legs and faded off just as Sanji reacted with a startled complaint.

In the morning, he was blasted with the warmth of the sun on his face and the sound of a city alive. He lifted his head to see that Sanji was gone, but there was the smell of coffee in the air and something cooked. Law tossed aside the blankets then drew them back over once he felt the lingering chill. He listened to the silence of the apartment, wondering if he'd missed seeing others he apparently couldn't see.

Eventually, he retrieved his cellphone from his jacket and noted that it was just after 10 am. His window was covered in annoyed texts from the crew, and with inquiries from the forum. Judge wanted to know where he was to wire the rest of the money – apparently, Zeff was gone. Law lowered his phone to the other pillow, thinking about what happened.

Some ghosts couldn't see each other – it was obvious that the gleam Law was after was involved in this. That changed his plans. He sent a message to the crew, advising them to "wait for him", as he had some business he wanted to clear up. Then he muted it and went back to sleep.

: :

Sanji had just left the restaurant when Sora appeared behind him. The world was still dim with rain, and the streets were lightly flooded. But it had slowed to a trickle – forcing him to remove his glasses in order to see as traffic moved slower than usual. He had a long, striped scarf wrapped around his neck, with an oversized jean jacket over his waiter's uniform – his hair already a mess around his face as he gloomily recognized the troubled tone in his mother's voice.

"That man is a bad – a _very_ bad man," she insisted, speaking to his back. "And you're allowing him to do this!"

Sanji didn't know what to say in Law's defense. He felt reluctant to speak up or even deny.

"He was at your father's house last night," Sora went on, nightgown fluttering at her ankles as she walked briskly after him. "Using some sort of…ability. He's a ghost himself, Sanji. He could hurt you."

"But he won't," Sanji answered, pulling the scarf up over his mouth to muffle his words. "He goes after ghosts that cause harm."

"Zeff is not a man that causes 'harm'," Sora insisted.

Sanji agreed with her, but he realized he had no foundation of what to say or where to start. It was true that he didn't and had ever run into angry or vicious ghosts that wanted to harm him. But he did find it puzzling that Law had seen only Zeff and not the siblings; there was that mention of him being a ghost himself, which didn't make any sense...

But to blast the man for what Sanji didn't know…and while everything he was learning was a change to his lonely existence…he just didn't know enough to make Law into a villain like his mother was trying to.

To Sanji, it made sense that Law sent them on their way – why linger? It couldn't be that bad, could it?

"He has the ability to hurt _you_, Sanji," Sora insisted quietly at his shoulder, her firm voice causing him goosebumps. "By taking away all you know."

What would it feel like to not see his mother and his siblings again, people who had already lived and had already died? While it tugged at his heart to go without their voices, knowing they were gone – was it actually that harmful?

"I don't know if he's a bad man, mother," he said low, his voice lost within the traffic noises and the drizzle of rain. "What I know of him is…different."

"How _different_?" she asked, aghast, and Sanji felt his face redden behind his scarf. He wasn't sure how to answer her. But his heart tugged differently when he thought of that man, pulled in different directions (_boyfriend? Pet_?). Law may not feel towards him as Sanji did towards him – but it was unfair because he himself didn't know what they were – his feelings weren't helping anything. He wish he could turn them off, somehow.

He swallowed tightly. "I just do."

He could feel her pressing stare from his shoulder, and he looked away, not wanting to make eye contact with her.

"_He_ was the one you were looking for," she realized aloud.

"I – "

"Were you seeking to get rid of us, too? Like _he_ was? Your father?"

The hurt and pain in her voice caused Sanji guilt. He quickened his step as he crossed the street, pants soaked when he stepped into a deceptive pothole puddle.

"_Sanji_!"

Because her voice had tightened to a snap, Sanji paused on the opposite sidewalk and forced himself to look back at her. Her expression demanded an answer. As a ghost, she was unaffected by the drizzle, and so her hair didn't frizz and explode with volume, nor were her clothes wet and cold. She stood there as brilliant as the living but tired and swollen as she was when she was alive. Her expression was just as expressive with the living's pain.

He shook his head slowly. "No. We met by accident."

"Don't you see? He was casing you. _Using_ you."

"It wasn't _using_ if he'd never pressed for information until that day he met Zeff." Sanji tried to make his voice less tense by adding, "I've learned more of this thing since that point. He can't see my siblings, but he saw Zeff. Zeff's even mentioned that my siblings can't see him – why is that?"

Sora stared up at him with doubt, then drawing pain. She reached out to fuss with his jacket, and Sanji glanced around with apprehension, wondering if others could see his jacket moving without him actually doing it.

"You'd choose him over us, duckling?" she asked tentatively.

"No," he answered clumsily. He gave her a pleading look. "You guys are _dead_, mother. You're gone. I'm still here. I mean…isn't it unrealistic to think that I'd want to choose the dead over the living?"

"Sanji. This gift of yours, you've had all your life," Sora said tightly. "It was given to you for a reason. To ignore it – wouldn't that be something only your father is capable of?"

"It's not like I'm _ignoring_ it – I _can't_ ignore it! I just…I want to fit in with the living, too, and talking out loud to ghosts all the time isn't helping!" Sanji snapped at her, walking once more and leaving her to gape after him incredulously. People glanced at him suspiciously as he lowered his voice, covering the lower half of his face with his scarf. He could hear her walking after him.

"This man wants to make sure we disappear, and you're okay with that," Sora muttered bitterly. "You're okay with just…tossing us away."

Sanji closed his eyes with exasperation, pausing at a crosswalk. The light blinked impatiently as traffic lights shifted slowly. "Maybe it's time for you to move on, go where you're supposed to go. Not stay here and…linger."

"I choose to stay because all my children are here," she said shortly. "_You_ are still here."

Sanji exhaled heavily, crossing the street once it was safe to do so. After several steps, he realized she wasn't following him anymore. He looked behind himself, noting that she was gone. Was she angry? Would she choose to disappear from his life for a time while she was upset with him? It frustrated him that he couldn't stop feeling guilty for his feelings, for making her feel this way.

But Law had come to him, last night. Too exhausted to press him for answers. He slept like the dead next to Sanji and didn't even stir when he deliberately made noise. Part of Sanji thought that Law needed him more than the older man wanted to admit to himself.

He was flustered between wanting to see this his way and yet consider his mother's warning as well. Yes, he was aware Law wanted to use him – but Sanji was curious. What had his mother been keeping from him? What if this gift that was given to him meant more than just talking to ghosts on the street?

Back at his apartment, he first noticed the jacket on the couch, and the abandoned, muddy boots on the floor. He could see a lump on the bed. He still felt relief and hope despite proceeding cautiously, knowing he had to be careful with what he said and what decisions he'd make based on his own curiosity.

Sora hadn't answered the question, and suddenly Sanji needed to know. He pulled his jacket and scarf off, set his boots aside, and wandered over to the kitchen. He noted that the food he'd left out this morning was untouched – so he unwrapped it and put it into the microwave without setting the timer. Then he opened the fridge, noting that he didn't have much ingredients to feed another person without delving into the few items he used to feed his disorder. His cupboards were bare – after some consideration, he added to the plate he had sitting in the microwave, cooked that, then set the timer to warm up the plate. Once it was ready, he set the table near the window, provided a pitcher of tea, and went to wake the other man up.

He did so with a hard kick to what he thought was Law's back, and Law grunted before rapidly climbing his way out of the blankets with an enraged snarl. Once he saw Sanji, he huffed, wiping his face and then reaching to try and rub his back.

"Come eat," Sanji told him gruffly, returning to the dinner table and watching as Law grumbled to himself before fighting his way out of the blankets and walking over with a noticeable slouch. Seeing the fare in front of him, Law ate without saying anything – shoveling food into his mouth while Sanji watched him with a disgruntled stare before picking at his own plate.

"You wanted to say something?" he then asked once he made sure Law wasn't going to choke on the mouthfuls he was stuffing into already crammed cheeks. "Now's the time."

"Where's your mother?" Law asked immediately.

Sanji frowned at him. There was something different in Law's voice, but he couldn't figure out what it was. "Why?"

"Surely ya've spoken ta her recently. I tried ta go back for the cook before I got here," Law confessed lightly, scraping runny eggs together with his rice while Sanji's frown deepened, "and it 'pears that they're conspirin' against me."

He said "conspiring" as 'conspurring', and his accent was so off that it made Sanji wonder just _who_ it belonged to. In all their time together, Law's speech seemed to change so fluidly from one accent to another that he caught himself with corrected moods, but now that Sanji was aware of this man's problems…he had to wonder just how many ghosts Law had consumed.

Sure enough, Law cleared his throat and that curious accent faded away.

"Because they know who you are?"

Law made a face of confirmation without answering verbally.

"You said that certain ones give back when you guide them. What exactly does that mean?"

"Does this mean you're willing to adventure with me?"

"I'm curious, now," Sanji confessed. "You can become a ghost yourself. How does that work?"

"When you look at me, do you see me?" Law then asked curiously. "Or do you see or hear others?"

"I'd always thought it was…some sort of disorder – but these are probably quirks from living…a terribly _long_ twenty-six years."

"In all my adventures," Law said, "I hadn't run into ghosts that conspire together against me, unless they'd died as a pair. Yet, the cook and your mother died in separate situations but trade warnings with each other. That is…"

"It's the same house."

"But didn't your mother die in a hospital?"

Sanji closed his mouth, thinking about the conditions. Then he murmured without answering, "I'd always wondered why Niji and Reiju deliberately ignored Zeff. But because he was just a cook…they'd ignored him even living. So…that possibly couldn't be of any explanation."

"The hospital, that's…a few blocks down from here, isn't it?"

"Am I having the same conversation with you? Or a conversation with different yous? Because _none_ of you are answering my questions."

Law set his fork down. "I'm mostly interested in my situation, and how yours can contribute to mine. You're protecting your mother, and I want to know why you don't want her venturing into the light."

"I don't remember saying that," Sanji said vaguely. "You never ask about me, and I never….offer."

Folding his fingers to rest his hairy chin atop of them, Law looked across the table at Sanji with a light smile. "This is the most conversation we've had in years."

"Because it was mostly you speaking, you narcissist."

Law licked his fingers, which were dotted with rice. "Zeff spoke in such a way that it was allowing your mother to overhear. Then your siblings worked together to fight me off. Not in Zeff's honor, but to wake their father to alert him to my presence. I couldn't see them, but certain clues allowed me to base a firm acknowledgement that they were there."

Sanji gave a short exhale through his nose. "I mean, if you put it that way…they more than likely thought you were threatening them and their father."

"_Your_ father? This constant warring between us," Law continued thoughtfully, "is arousing my curiosity like a mental Viagra pill. The painful sort of situation that doesn't lead to much satisfaction."

"So…every ghost you send to the light," Sanji interrupted carefully, "it apparently gives you some sort of an extended life. And you've got a bunch of them attached to you, distributed amongst your crew…so…answer this question, just how _old_ of a twenty-six year old are you?"

"All I ask is for a couple of hunts," Law offered, ignoring the question, "I think that'd answer your questions without me having to expend too much unnecessary energy."

"What happens if I know too much?"

"I don't think you're cut out for this type of life, mouse."

Sanji scowled at him.

"You have a heart," Law added. "And having a heart isn't going to go well for you."

"What exactly about my life suggests that I'm over-empathetic?"

"You keep letting me back in. I know what a mess I am, and you don't even try to keep me out of it." Law gave him a piteous look while Sanji's expression turned exasperated.

"You obviously can walk through walls and shit, so I don't have a choice! How do you do that, by the way?"

"At this point in time," Law continued over Sanji's complaint, "your mother is well aware of what I am capable of. I doubt she'll try to approach you while I'm with you. Therefore, you won't have her cover to hide behind while I rustle us up some examples for you to see. Showing is better than telling, isn't it?"

"My mother isn't an enemy," Sanji said slowly. "Just…someone who isn't ready to let go, yet. So…your suggestion just opens up more questions on why you're so persistent."

"I want to find out why your siblings were murdered. This involves your mother."

Sanji stared at him for several seconds before growing angry. "My mother wouldn't murder anyone, shit head. Why the fuck would you even think that?"

Law made a settling motion with his hands, giving a light smile. "Now, now. The ghosts I hunt are categorized by how I can see them - the ones I'm looking for…they're the ones that share with me extraordinary talents. They're the ones with the 'gleam'. Appropriately named for the glow they give off."

Sanji listened to this, feeling some of his anger fade. But another feeling was starting to creep in. He didn't want to identify it just yet – he was familiar with disappointment, and didn't want to acknowledge it like this. But he thought of how gently his mother seemed to bloom with color – like candlelight.

"Those are the ones that cause activity," Law continued. "Like Zeff, rattling things around in the kitchen and opening doors. The light I suspect was your mother's is a bright glow. Something I imagine a mother must project when she's…protecting her family."

"Also," he added quickly, "ghosts normally haunt their places of death or places they loved. Your mother is able to accompany you in the streets – does she visit your other brothers?"

_She does_, Sanji thought without answering aloud, but keeping his expression blank.

"Ghosts with that type of strength give me strength," Law stressed. "So I can keep doing what I'm doing."

"…Still makes you a vampire."

Law gave him an impatient look.

"You want me to give up my family members, people I love, just to give you power. That's what I'm hearing."

"I'm taking away their ability that allows them to stay here while showing them the proper road to take to move on. C'mon, Sanji," Law then cajoled gently, "having them here isn't helping you, either."

"_Helping_ them," Sanji murmured with doubt.

"Ghosts separated by circumstances, bound by familiarity in life, but able to…travel to alert each other that I am around suggests independent thinking by things that shouldn't have thoughts at all. Having you with me would be very handy to interpret some things."

"How does this help me?"

"You'll earn peace of mind knowing that your mother moved on." Law examined Sanji's features while resting his cheek on one fist. "Or do you prefer having your mother hound you throughout the rest of your life?"

"All I'm hearing is that I'm being used so you can obtain a drug that will make you stronger, and allow you to live longer. Meanwhile, I'm betraying my mother by giving her up to some dude that wants to take away her…ghostly strength, or whatever."

"She's already _dead_, Sanji," Law stressed lightly. Sanji exhaled noisily, looking down at his plate with uncertainty.

Law then flattened both hands on the table. "For four decades, I've been twenty-six years old."

Sanji stared at him in amazement, then unconsciously covered his neck with both hands.

"I'm not a fucking _vampire_!"

"Prove it," Sanji then challenged him. "Prove to me that you're really…of a time period different from this one."

"You'll have to come down to the Polar Tang to do so," Law said with a light smirk before he suddenly wore a dawning expression of realization. Sanji watched him warily as he quickly schooled his features into some awkward twitching. "But explaining this…to my crew is unnecessary..."

"Explain…_what_ to _who_?"

"I have this…reputation…"

Sanji wore a bitter look as he crossed his arms over his chest, wearing a bitter look. "I'd be embarrassed admitting that you're fucking with me, too."

"Not that," Law said calmly. "If they knew that you see them better than I do, there will be consequences."

Confused, Sanji waited for him to explain but Law removed his hands from the table and folded them on his lap, wearing an expectant smile. "Seconds?"

Sanji passed him his plate. He felt prickles of unease as Law scarfed down the contents of the plate without hesitation.

"Mutiny," Law added, speaking through another mouthful of food. "Those bastards will throw me overboard in a nanosecond if they suspect you're more talented than I am. They always want me dead."

Skeptical, Sanji raised a curled brow. He wished Robin was there to whisper advice in his ears, but his apartment was always silent.

Law paused suddenly in mid-lift, wearing a startled expression. Sanji watched him cautiously, noting that in the span of seconds, Law's features seemed to change ever so slightly. "You seeing only me, eh? Only I?"

_What accent is that_? Sanji wondered with bewilderment as Law shook his head ever so slightly, retaining his usual expression.

"I mean, mine is the only face you're seeing? Not…not to be taken out of context, but remaining within the bounds of our conversation."

Sanji nodded slowly, wondering why this was even coming up. It never had before. Neither of them had addressed the changes, but it seemed to Sanji that now that Law was aware of it (_in his presence_) it seemed Law was developing some sort of paranoia about it. He wondered if he should calm him or lie to him about it.

"Is this like…some sort of multiple personality disorder?" he asked cautiously.

"No. The old man seems to think he can see others layered over my true form. Whatever that means," Law then added with a scoff. "Could be a possibility - I never gave it thought because it was never pointed out to me."

"So…if you take my mother and Zeff," Sanji asked slowly, "does that mean you'll act and speak like them, too?"

"I've…never noticed using individual quirks because I don't know every jerk personally. You'll have to tell me yourself if you notice these changes." Law paused, then gave Sanji an awkward look. "We might have to break up if I start exhibiting quirks similar to your mother."

Sanji gave him a disgusted expression, unsure of what to think about that.

After he was done eating, Law wiped his hands on the napkin provided and then gave Sanji a knowing smirk.

"I didn't eat all day," he said suggestively.

"Breakfast was there for you to – "

"_I didn't eat all day_, Sanji. Let's fuck."

Sanji closed his mouth with realization, then hated himself for feeling excited about it. It'd probably be his undoing.


	5. Looking Back At It

**5: Looking Back On It**

* * *

The bar's front was a simple banner font with mirrored windows and an old-wood style door with ugly yellow metal paneling that separated it from the strip of depilated apartment buildings and a bodega. Sanji was aghast by how ugly it was, standing outside the steps with a look of distaste while Law paused at the front door and read his expression. The rumble of music and chaos inside was just a faint murmur amidst the renewed rain and traffic noises. Homeless were huddled outside in tents against the nearby alley, with questionable persons loitering near the corner and alleyway. Law gave a wince, hand to his lower back once Sanji realized he was looking at him.

"I mean, I'm all for punishment, but I need a wheelchair," Law complained low, Sanji rolling his eyes. Still, he couldn't help the flush with humorous pride in his "hips" as Law dragged the door open. Three men spilled out, drinks tossed as loud alternative music escaped the smoky atmosphere. Men were fighting near the bar, the bartender looked bored, and women danced sloppily around an old jukebox that couldn't possibly be the focal point of the musical noise.

Law deliberately walked over the sluggish men that shouted in surprise and anger. After watching them drag themselves back into the bar on their hands and knees, Sanji cautiously followed right after. The moment the door swung shut behind him, the environment felt suffocating. His ears instantly felt pressure, the smells hit him like a fist, and the hot, tense air felt like a slow smothering blanket being pulled around his senses. The floor was sticky with spilled drinks, there was no place to sit except for a few occupied stools at the bar, and the wood paneled walls were decorated with raunchy pictures, electric signs, cigarette vending machines and useless flyers that were curiously framed in glass.

Law caught the attention of a man standing near the bar, who nodded and looked through the fray for someone else. He then looked at Sanji. "Thirsty?"

"I don't want anything to drink," Sanji muttered with disdain, watching a woman laugh hysterically as her friends went to the floor in a domino effect that jostled some men at the jukebox – which caused some shoves and shouts that erupted into a fight. He avoided that skirmish as Law made his way through the crowd, heading to the back. The crowd seemed to part with a flourish to let him through, and Sanji had to hurry to keep up as they intended on crowding him just to prevent him from following. But he caught up to the other man as he waited near a door plastered with multi-colored flyers and napkins with various phone numbers on them.

"Jesus Christ, this place is _awful_," he commented, lip curled as he scanned the faces of those occupying the place. It took him a few seconds to realize that the smoky atmosphere provided a curiously open cover for people displaced amongst the living. Other than the women, a few men at the bar and some standing in pairs near the walls, most of the bar's occupants were ghosts.

The details of their clothing placed them from different points of time – their deaths were both obvious and not, but they interacted each other easily and noisily; but only if their clothing appointed them to the same time period. Pirates were talking to other pirates; hippies dancing with each other; union and confederates fighting with each other; revolutionary and British snapping in the others' directions; eighties mesh laughing with eighties hairband copycats; clearly, all of them were unaware of the other groups. But the living – they only occupied small spaces, walking through groups without effort but their drunken state somehow allowed them contact with someone not from their time.

"What do you see?" Law asked Sanji curiously. He reached out to touch the wispy curls that had escaped the elastic.

Sanji exhaled with a short puff. "I, uh…people are just…interacting. Not together, but in a way that…maybe they see each other, but they're not…steady on contact."

"The living can see ghosts, Sanji," Law said low. He leaned in to be heard, and as a result, Sanji felt a shiver race through him just feeling his breath on his ear. "They just don't realize they do because it's expected for ghosts to be…dramatic. But in a city like this one, it's easy for them to talk to people who aren't actually there because they see them only fleetingly. Then realize later that they had because it's so easy to miss in the moment. Ghosts, too. Sometimes…it's like they have forgotten they were dead in the first place."

Sanji frowned at him. "If you can't see all of them, how do you know this?"

"You bastard," Shachi snarled at him before Law could answer, pushing his way through a group of union soldiers with a set of keys. "Ignoring us! We were supposed to meet at two, what the hell took you so long?"

As his voice broke through the din, all the ghosts turned and looked directly at Sanji. Almost like a moving wave, they fell into heavy silence. Only the screeching music and the voices of the living lifted like a gentle murmur amongst the still bodies. Law watched Sanji as the man seemed to pale, looking around with startled action as faces turned expectant. But Shachi opened the door to the office, both of them entering before Sanji could.

Quickly, as the first wave of bodies began to move, he let himself inside. Shachi shut the door after him, and after a few moments, the wave of sound built up outside the door with a sort of angry volume. Sanji watched the door warily as Law took a gentle seat on a plush chair nearby.

"Job?" he asked Law as Sanji returned his attention to them.

"Job," Law affirmed with a nod.

"Sorry about the mess," Shachi apologized before sweeping out from the room, several ghosts from different time periods trying to look around him for Sanji before the door shut.

Law exhaled heavily, palming the arm rests. "Good. You kept your secret to yourself. Shachi is the biggest blabbermouth here."

Sanji looked at him incredulously, folding his thin arms over his chest. "How is this _possible_?"

"What? The bar? It's mine, but Jean Bart's the manager. It's _his_ crappy taste out there. Music, too."

"_The ghosts_!"

"Ah…there's ghosts?" Law then asked curiously, eyebrows raised. "It always seems so noisy and crowded out there, but I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary."

He observed Sanji's incredulous expression then looked puzzled. "I'm missing something? _That's right_. You can see all of them. Tell me what you see."

Sanji ignored that, turning his attention to the office. It had shelves of binders, all neatly labeled and arranged by year. The walls had old posters from various years tacked to them – music festivals, holiday celebrations, old calendar pages with various dates penned in red. Pictures of the city throughout the years were framed in black, arranged by date nearest the ceiling. Against one wall were a couple of desks with four different sets of computers – one mainly geared toward building security. Filing cabinets with warning notices on them told them _Trespassers Will Be Shot_! A gun safe was nestled between two of these cabinets, and that had the strange smiley face embedded into the door that matched Law's back tattoo.

"Well. Show me," he ordered shortly, hugging himself against the AC chill.

"It's not usually this messy," Law apologized, not moving from the chair as he continued to observe Sanji's reactions to the place. "Some of the crew members obviously had other things to do."

"I just…want to see the proof and be out of here. Quickly."

"Why?" Law asked him curiously, unmoving. "You think those things out there will bother you? This room is ghost proof. I mean, I assume so. And if not, I'm sure they won't be too much of a problem. My sword is long, this room is small."

Sanji couldn't help but feel there was a suggestion in that comment, and Law's blooming smirk suggested he was right. He rolled his eyes, fiddling with his jean jacket. The door opened again, and Penguin stumbled in, carrying a slice of pizza from the place down the street and a foamy glass. He kicked the door shut and made his way to the computer, setting both items down sloppily on the desk.

"Let's talk the problem and payment," he announced, firing up the keyboard with quick fingers.

"This is a different situation, Penguin," Law spoke up, folding his hands across his stomach. "This is a ride along."

"…_What_."

"My companion here is interested in hunting ghosts – " Law tried to say when Penguin shushed him with an impatient wave of his hand. Law looked to Sanji, as if to say _See_?

"Isn't everybody, lately? What makes this different?"

"I have a different _interest_ invested into this."

"God, you're so _gross_…"

Sanji gave Law an impatient look of his own.

"Penguin, this one can see _and_ hear ghosts around him," Law told his friend, Penguin shoving most of the pizza in his mouth to bite and chew, looking at him from over his shoulder. "The interaction between he and them is…almost confusing in that he can barely pick out the dead from the living."

"Oh? Where's the proof?"

"Bring in…the lamp."

Penguin turned in his chair to look at Law with surprise. Law gave an awkward look back – the pair of men communicating with expressions; something that came with years of close friendship.

_Will both of you ladies get past the telepathic love making_? Sanji thought with a cross frown. Penguin frowned, but he rose from the chair – still chewing his food. He crammed the rest of the pizza into his mouth, chewing awkwardly.

"Where's your damn sword?" Penguin asked Law. Law patted the case leaning against the chair. "I ain't doing it unless you have it out. Jean Bart had to work over time to replace the equipment in here."

"Don't worry. It's all under control. For an old man, you sure are jumpy."

"'_For an old man_ – 'If you're lying, you're going to regret it," Penguin warned before leaving the office, yelling at Shachi to open up the basement. The door slammed shut behind him, and Sanji's anxiety jumped due to the circumstances. Law looked up at him calmly.

"This is a neat little thing," Law explained. "The basement is our private collection of haunted items and…knick-knacks. The lamp has someone inside of it that's…loud and angry. If you can be the go-between…it'd prove your worth."

Sanji stared at him irritably, Law holding up his hands in surrender.

"I already know what you can do. You need to prove to _them_ what you can do," Law said. He held up a finger. "Just…don't make it _too_ good. Indicate that the ghost is here, make up a flashy story and leave it at that."

Sanji doubted that just from the quick encounters he'd witnessed. This was just one of Law's little games; entertaining himself but also clearly observing Sanji for…_something_. Sanji wasn't sure what.

"You're not going to give me a backstory on this guy?" Sanji then asked him warily.

"Nope. Will this be your first encounter with an angry ghost? Because this one is _angry_. His nature prevents me from accomplishing my task. Which is why…he's kept in a lamp," Law then added lazily, cheek on palm.

"I don't understand why I have to prove anything. I just wanted to see proof that you are whom you claim to be," Sanji then said softly.

"I want you prepared before I take you out," Law replied. He observed Sanji's slowly hunching shoulders, the way his fingers fiddled uselessly with the buttons on his jacket. "All you're showing me is that you're a mouse."

Sanji pushed his nervous hands into his jacket pockets, leaning back against the wall. "_No_. _No_, I haven't run into that, before. _No_, I haven't done anything dangerous, _no_, I haven't - _adventured_anywhere! _Of course_ I'm fucking uncertain, I don't know what to expect!"

"Why are you yelling at me?" Law asked, mock-wounded.

Sanji glowered at him, then crossed his arms over his chest. "If this turns out to be some stupid, campy scare, I'm walking away from this. From _you_. I get the feeling you're fucking me over."

"_I'm_ the one that was fucked."

Before Sanji could say anything, Penguin shoved his way in, cradling a metal lockbox under one arm. Sanji looked at it skeptically, wondering if it held a genie of some kind. But all he saw was a small lockbox, plastered with children's stickers and _Keep Out! Hands Off!_ written on it with a Sharpie. He was almost disappointed that it _wasn't_ a lamp.

Penguin tossed it onto the nearby desk with an exhale. "I found it underneath the other glass case again."

"Who made the last pen?" Law asked with exasperation, straightening up in his chair with irritation. "Is someone actually checking on it like they're supposed to?"

"_They are_! This dude just doesn't want to stay put," Penguin argued. "So, how are we doing this? You don't even have your stupid sword ready."

Law looked over at Sanji, who was growing noticeably agitated as he followed their conversation. "Just get ready to lock it back up," he told Penguin, reaching for his carrying case. He opened the lid, then set it upon his lap while Penguin wore an apprehensive expression at Law's lack of action. He exhaled heavily, finding the right key on a loaded keyring. When he opened it, Sanji expected a flash of light and bright confetti; colored smoke, or _something_ decaying.

But the office was silent and still for several moments. Then Penguin ducked head level with the desk, gripping the edge. Sanji waited for something _spectacular_ to happen with their actions. But nothing did.

After a skeptical glance in Law's direction, he ventured forward towards the box to look inside. He caught sight of a single Polaroid with what looked like a scene taken directly from some stormy beach. Utterly confused, he looked at Law once more for an explanation, but the man's eyes were set behind Sanji.

Sanji turned wildly and faced a man dressed in a sleeveless tee, a tartan scarf and faded, ripped jeans. His shredded neck from a violent slashing attack exposed the throat cavity, spine, and dangling tendons. It seemed to wiggle like a grotesque garment with his movements. The knife had been left embedded deep within his chest. Blood soaked his entire shirt and the front of his jeans – the knife wobbled with every breath he took. He reeked of his death, and it made Sanji wince, hand fluttering to his nose before he caught himself. The ghost towered over Sanji menacingly, nostrils flaring with each breath. Sanji actually cowered back, alarmed at how solid this ghost was. But this man glowed like the sea captured on the photograph – a stormy grey glow that illuminated him from within. Much like Sora's – allowing him untouched by time and atmosphere.

"Who is this loser that looks at me like I'm some scary monster?" the man spoke thinly, lip curled as his eyes darted over Sanji's loose outfit.

One hand lifted into a beefy fist, and Sanji's reactions, based on growing up with his brothers, allowed him to react faster. He kicked and buried that knife deeper into the man's body, causing him to slam against the nearby wall with a startled grunt. After a few moments, he looked own at his chest, then straightened away from the wall to look behind him. The blade of the knife was completely visible when he turned in a half circle – the handguard caught by his own ribcage and thus buried too deep for him to pull out. He gave Sanji a look of surprise.

"You made contact," Law observed aloud, with some surprise in his tone as he glanced at Sanji.

"They can touch me," Sanji wheezed in replay, not allowing the ghost out of his sight. He'd practically crammed himself between the desk and the wall as the ghost's lips thinned with rising agitation. His eyes seemed to glow with fury, veins engorging at his temple and forehead. "_They_ can touch me, so why can't I touch them?"

The big man looked to Sanji with hostility, and the air seemed to spike with strengthened malice. It seemed to curl and freeze, causing Sanji to freeze as every part of him told him that _this was wrong_. He was going to get hurt. This thing could hurt him and he couldn't possibly defend himself against a ghost. All his senses were going haywire, and he couldn't shake himself out of that state. Just as the big man made to move at him, Law's sword crammed up against his jaw, forcing him to stop.

"That's enough," Law said lightly. "I'd thought you'd changed your mind after thinking over your actions, but I was wrong. It's time-out for you, Eustess."

The man's big hands curled around the blade, iron clearly sinking through flesh. Law frowned at him as the man's lips spread into a malicious smile, all his visible muscles tensing to attack. He then gave a startled expression as Penguin slammed the box shut, locking it immediately. The ghost seemed to fizz away, the sound crackling within the office like fireworks after bursting. The box erupted with violence, jumping atop of the desk before Penguin threw his chest and arms around it, breathing heavily.

Law lowered his sword with a frown while Sanji struggled to coax his limbs into moving. The air lingered with the smell of the ghost's blood and the sharp taste of metal. He swallowed hard as Law looked at him curiously, resting his sword against his shoulder.

"You can touch them," he insisted. "They can touch you. You can see them, they can see you. Admittedly, I can only touch them with this sword."

"What, like he's more powerful than you?" Penguin asked him incredulously, startled at the concept. Law looked at him with alarm while Sanji's shaking hand fell onto his own chest, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

"No," Law amended lightly. "Ghosts like to prey on the weak. Sanji here is a mouse."

"_Stop calling me that_," Sanji snapped at him, but his voice was barely strong enough to escape him.

"Yeah, but, _something happened_," Penguin insisted, cradling the box to his chest. It had calmed, it seemed, but he didn't lessen the strength to hold it. "So…like, he's got better ghost powers than you."

"No, your mind just made up things to make up for what you _didn't_ understand to see. Sanji," Law then said to the blonde while Penguin gave him a look of exasperation over the deliberately misleading sentence, "now, what do you think? You saw what I mean by the gleam, right?"

Sanji nodded slowly. The ghost had been bright enough to be the light exploding from a stormy sea. His mother was candlelight, but was there really a comparison between the two? He had more questions, but his mind was muddled by the encounter.

"As you saw, my blade do nothing to him but make him mad," Law went on, sheathing the weapon. "Which is why I can't…finish the task. I can only contain him. I've been working on a solution for years but to no avail. The point of this task was to see how well you can handle a volatile situation without your backup, so…what do you think?"

Penguin then gasped low, face blooming with incredulous realization. Law glanced at him.

"Oh, he wants to share a theory with you," Law then said to Sanji, gesturing at Penguin, who looked mortified. "Something _important_."

"_No I don't_," Penguin said hastily. He shoved Law with a shoulder before leaving the room, slamming the door shut. Sanji wondered what that was about.

"This is what you do," he then said slowly. "Chase ghosts like these around. And…"

"Like I said…the things that perform violence against the living. Yes."

"Zeff is not a violent person. He just makes noise!"

"But you see…jobs are scarce, lately. So I take what I can."

"My mother," Sanji then said tightly, "is _nothing_ like this type of violence."

"Is that something you want to believe?"

Sanji grit his teeth, his hands balling into fists as Law gave him a light smile.

"She is still a ghost with a gleam, Sanji," Law said calmly. "Whatever happened to your siblings – doesn't that arouse some sort of suspicion in you? Doesn't it make you want to find out the real reason behind their deaths?"

"That family – "

"_Your_ family."

" – has not been revered for their kind, gentle personalities. My father included. If they were set up to be murdered, it's their own damn faults. All of them had done shit to earn their deaths – it's not surprising or suspicious to me!"

Law considered this for a few moments, then asked, "Was it you?"

Sanji stared at him with a grim frown then said, "If I said 'yes', would you let it go?"

"No. I'd like the gruesome details. _And_ I wouldn't believe you," Law added with an amused smile.

"So allow me to look at it another way," Law then said, taking his seat back onto the chair while Sanji thrust his fists into his jacket pockets and allowed the wall to support his weight, "even if it were their own making – "

"Why does it even matter to you?" Sanji interrupted him. "Their deaths. _Who cares_?"

"I just…have a theory…and I'm in it to obtain the gleam. If we're being honest with each other."

"What's this theory going to prove? And before you answer that, what happens if you can no longer obtain the gleam?"

Law frowned at him, working his lips from side to side before ending it with a shrug. "I don't know."

"The effects – how long do they last?"

"A good while. Like any other _drug_, it fades and the weight fades, and…to be honest, what happens when I lose them all? Do I suddenly revert back to the person I was when I started, or do I just…wither into the person I'm supposed to be?" Law looked back at Sanji with a wince. "I'd suddenly be as old as your great grandfather. Would make it awkward if we were seen together. People would start to think you were with me for my money."

Sanji gave him an impatient look, not amused by his mocking words.

Folding his hands together, Law then said, "When my power starts to fade, it means that the gleam I'd obtained from a ghost has finally diminished, freeing that ghost from me. It affects my abilities."

"Do you even remember who you were?"

Law thought about it, then looked at Sanji with worry. "You don't like who I am now? What's wrong with me?"

Sanji gave him an impatient look, then reached up to pull his glasses off. He blinked his dry eyes and examined the lenses before replacing them back onto his face. He then looked at Law pointedly. "You're going to do this the hard way, and it's not going to be fun for you. There are people here in the city that know its history in and out. It'll take me twenty minutes to come back here with – "

"I like being threatened, just not so obviously," Law snapped at him, rising from the chair. He used a fist to bang on a wood panel just above the filing cabinets, where it opened with a slight creak to reveal a safe. Using his other hand to hide the input of numbers, he withdrew a set of keys from it. He used that open the top drawer of one of the filing cabinets, withdrawing yet another metal box from inside.

Sanji waited with a nervous expression, unsure if he wanted to be pull in this deeply. But a part of him _wanted_ to know more about this man – selfish reasons, really. Here he was, in the midst of something he'd never thought he'd be involved in, and while it was exciting, it was also apparent he was just being used. Law wasn't secretive about that, but while the man didn't seem to have that much feeling for him, maybe this new adventure would take Sanji elsewhere. Start on a new version of himself. Make him into someone he'd never thought he could be.

He was a lonely man – isolated and introverted, but this…while it was frightening, this was something new and different.

Maybe he didn't have hope for something solid between them, but he had hope for himself as a person.

Maybe that was all he really needed.

Law sat and Sanji slowly ventured over to look. Law withdrew a sucker from the box, looking at it happily. He noticed Sanji giving him an inquisitive expression.

"I'm _not_ sharing," Law told him firmly, unwrapping the candy. "Anyway, there's a man I want you to find."

"BULLSHIT, _what the fuck_?"

Law's eyes widened with shock, sucker caught between his teeth as Sanji exploded on him. "_Language_," he admonished. "Like I have valuable information here to give me away. Those guys will riot in an instant."

From the box, he withdrew a locket, and the gold gleamed under the room's lights. "Take this. Give it to him. And he'll tell you want you want to know. My information resides in him."

Fuming, Sanji stared at him incredulously. But he swiped the locket from Law's outstretched fingers, and opened it up. In it was a younger version of Law, a child. He was standing in a black and white photograph next to a man that beamed with a wide smile and wearing a clownish outfit. Puzzled, Sanji looked to Law as Law made obnoxious sucking sounds around the candy. He closed the box while Sanji closed the locket.

"Well? You don't have all night," he said.

Giving him a look of irritation, Sanji thrusted the locket into his pants pocket. "Give me the damn address."

After he left, Shachi and Penguin ventured back in with cautious expressions. Law held the closed box against his chest, waiting for them to attack him.

"What was that about?" Shachi asked him. "Penguin said this isn't a normal job?"

"Penguin," Law admonished the other older man. "Giving away my personal secrets…!"

"Shut up, _stupid_. Where'd he go?" Penguin asked curiously, signaling for Law to give him the box. Once he had it, he locked the filing cabinet and put the keys back into the safe, closing that up as well. Law swiped his sucker to the side of his mouth, folding his hands over his stomach.

"I sent him to Corazon," Law said lightly.

"…why would you do that?" Shachi asked, confused.

"For shits and giggles," Law answered simply, giving a clumsy smile around his sucker. "Load up the van. Let's go watch."

"You're fucking _mean_," Penguin muttered.

"Asshole," Shachi added with derision on his features.

"It's all part of the plan," Law murmured, wondering if he went overboard. "But it's the only way to observe _her_ better. I don't think he had anything to do with it, but he's obviously a very sheltered boy, and she's a possessive mommy."

"Wonder what that feels like?" Shachi said with sigh.

"I miss my mom," Penguin grumbled, opening up the gun safe.

"Probably just like Eustess, I won't be able to touch her, so I'd like to see what I can use to contain her," Law said slowly, picking up his carrying case. "So…understanding that these weren't the cream of the crop, what drives a mother to kill her own brood?"

"Are we still on that?"

"But _he_ is more interesting," Law added over Shachi's complaint. He looked at them with warning. "And he's quick at catching details. So be on your best behavior."

Both of them mimed zipping their lips.

"It appears that not all of them are happy," Shachi muttered to Penguin as Law looked down at himself with shock, then reached back to his lower back with pain.

"Have Jean Bart order another box. We gotta do this ourselves," Penguin whispered back as Law realized he was missing his glasses, and slapped all his pockets with bewilderment.

"Why Corazon?" Law mumbled, finding them in his jacket and pulling them on over his nose. "Damn it. They're aren't all that obvious, anymore, are they?"

"It's time to retire a couple of them, man. The longer you delay it, the more…porous you become," Penguin said.

Law exhaled heavily, adjusting his glasses. He told Shachi, "Bring the old sea glass mosaic and the dress piece."

Shachi nodded and hurried off while Penguin watched Law with a frown. Law added quietly, "A mother's love for her children are stronger than a man's will to fight for his pride."

"You sure about that?"

Shachi returned in minutes, holding two cases with the items Law had requested. He set them down on the desk, Law touching each with both hands. The dress piece was a filthy rag with faded hearts and daisies; the mosaic bottle had been embedded into a flat stone surface, glittering dully underneath the lights. Both of them were items belonging to the ghosts Law had taken for their gleams; each a valuable object that meant something in the departed's former lives. When he looked upon them, he felt separate feelings and memories come to mind that left him dazed - none of them were his, but it _felt_ like his. It _felt_ like his life he was looking at these items from, but he knew, deep inside of him, that none of these things were _his_.

He supposed it was easy to forget himself in this manner. It was apparent that Zeff's accusations were true.

Penguin fumbled with the lock boxes he drew up from a nearby tub, opening each other as the items on the table began to rattle.

Two women separated themselves from Law, their confused gazes sweeping around the room before looking back at him. Before anything could be said, Penguin hastily tossed the items into each box, the women fizzing out of sight with the cackle of fireworks. The boxes were then locked and gently set aside. Shachi watched Law cautiously, hands sliding into his pockets.

Lifting his hand, Law forced it to go transparent, and it took several more seconds for it to do so. But he wiggled his shoulders and returned to full body. Smacking his lips, he muttered, "That candy habit will stop, now. One of them was the culprit."

"It's weird because we can't tell if anything is _your_habit, now, or theirs," Shachi pointed out. "Every one of their personalities is just…you."

Law touched his face with worry. "Do I look old? Like you guys?"

"_Shut up_!"

"_Jerk_!"

"We're not that much older than you are!"

"But _alas_," Penguin added, looking at Shachi with a smirk, "he _is_ older than us."

"What a _mummy_," Shachi snickered, Law glowering at them both.

"I could go for some meat right now, I'm fucking _starving_," Law then muttered, snatching his jacket from the chair. "Fucking vegans. Let's go. I don't want to miss anything."

"This guy," Shachi then said, closing up as they headed out. "You sure about him?"

"Yeah."

"Did he confess yet?" Penguin asked curiously as they made their way to a side door and hurried out into the parking lot. A beat-up white transportation van was waiting for them, one of the crew smoking nearby. He had the engine running, and he gave them a thumbs up as they loaded in.

"Not yet. Considering how he feels…it's safe not to ask him directly," Law said.

Penguin and Shachi glanced at each other uncomfortably, but they said nothing at all. Law wore a troubled expression as he folded his arms over his chest, Shachi climbing into the driver's seat while Penguin sat in the back.

_Two and a half _years, Law thought again, incredulous about it. _Goddamn_.


	6. Under A Dome

**6: Under A Dome**

* * *

Sanji found the address, and looked up at the museum with trepidation. The rain had let up, but the buildings still dripped with its weight. A single taxi drove through flooded streets, the driver focused on his cellphone. All around him were trees that were like shadowed pillars, with buildings lurking upwards into the darkness beyond that. He felt the weight of the locket in his pocket, and plucked that out to look at the oval shape in one shaking hand.

He looked back up at the museum, wondering if Law was just playing games with him.

The hours were listed on a nearby sign, and Sanji figured he'd have to come back later. He scanned the well-kept lawn and parking lot nearby, then felt pressure against his back. The icy cold crawling sensation over the back of his neck and closely shorn hair made him think someone was standing up against him. He turned to look with a jerk of his limbs.

"That's mine," the shadowy hulk of a figure said low. His voice too murky for Sanji to understand exactly what he was saying; it was as if the man were speaking from behind a wall of water. Sanji gaped up at the massive figure – most of it was pure, thick shadow. He'd seen shadow people before, and thought this was one of them. But the hand that reached out to take the locket from Sanji's hand was brilliantly expressive of a man's hand. Pale, scarred, the bones and veins prominent – it felt like he'd just touched ice as he quickly retracted his own hand to his sides, taking a step back in an attempt to see a face.

But the hand and the locket remained the only visible aspects of this ghost.

Swallowing tightly, Sanji said, "Law sent me. To…I was looking for some answers."

Due to the silence around them, Sanji felt like his voice was much too loud. He lowered it after a glance around himself, suddenly self-conscious of being heard.

"Law…?" the murky voice questioned.

"You…you know him? You're…you're Corazon, right?" Sanji wished he could actually see the man, but even the hand seemed to disappear. The shadow seemed to eat up light around it, constantly moving and flowing like a continuous loop. It stood in front of the museum steps, and Sanji wondered what the place had been before it had been a museum.

"I know him," the man responded shortly. The locket disappeared briefly, as if that hand had clenched fingers over it. "How do you?"

Sanji wasn't sure how to answer that. He settled on the words bouncing around his tongue (_boyfriend, pet_) but the easiest answer he could come up with was, "He's a…friend."

"That man has no friends."

"Maybe…I don't know. I just…I need proof to his age…his _true_ age," Sanji stammered lightly. "Proof – I mean, I can't tell when he's lying."

"You wouldn't. And _he_ sent you to ask _me_?"

Sanji nodded with a puzzled expression because he didn't understand the meaning of Corazon's tone. He glanced around himself with apprehension, wondering if Sora was nearby. After that encounter with Eustess, Sanji felt a little more on edge on who Law's contacts were.

The shadow seemed to move, ascending the stairs with seemingly long steps that took him to the top before Sanji could move. "Come along."

Sanji looked at the quiet building with uncertainty, then at the shadow that seemed to glide right through the front doors. Before he could think anything, the front door unlocked and was pushed open with a screeching protest. After another glance around him for (_help_?), Sanji tentatively took the stairs up and walked into the museum. There were electronics still operating at full strength – various music and continuously looped history read from the mouths of actors coming into the front lobby like gentle music. Everything was dim, but too dark for him to sort through individually. He caught sight of the tall shadow taking a stairway to his left, so Sanji followed slowly. His footsteps seemed to ring out noisily within the quiet stillness, causing him to force quieter and softer movement.

He caught up to the man as he overlooked what looked like a display for the changing city – from beautiful plains to updated photos that were taken from high up. Most of the floor was in shadow, so he couldn't see too many of the displays, but someone laughed merrily about the change in the 60's.

"Law was my son," the shadow said softly. "I lost him. Or…he lost me. It doesn't matter which. The point is, he never came back."

Sanji frowned up at him, stuffing his hands into his jean jacket pockets. The shadow seemed to be look at him, then a hand reached out to touch the collar of it. The faded shearling fur and worn material was given a light tug.

"This was his."

"No, it wasn't. It's mine," Sanji insisted uncomfortably, pulling away. He gave the jacket a bewildered look, then diverted that expression back up at the shadow. "This is – _was_ – always mine."

The shadow faced him – at least, Sanji thought so. "Looks like all of your clothes are too big for you."

"I have…an eating disorder. I was very overweight. I get comments on it, I don't care."

"…I think I know why he sent you."

That intense feeling of dread was back, and Sanji felt it lift and curl throughout his stomach and chest. "Why is that?"

Corazon exhaled slow, the darkness around him constantly moving around and within him – try as he could, Sanji couldn't see any resemblance of a man in that midst. "You want to know his true age."

Sanji nodded in response, uncertain of this conversation's direction. He had a feeling it wouldn't be an easy task to get the answers he needed.

"This was once a school," Corazon said. "Back in those years, the city wasn't that big, but it was enough. But this school…this was his school. This was where I met him."

"You're the guy in the locket?"

"…Yes. But back then, he wasn't a child. He was a full grown adult – a biology teacher."

Sanji nearly choked on his spit. He couldn't imagine the man being any sort of respectable position.

"This picture…was a joke. But it captured proof that ghosts exist. It's strange that he kept it."

Sanji furrowed his brow with confusion. "Then why are you holding him like a child…?"

"Because one of those gleams _was_ a child. _Both_ of those people in those pictures are ghosts."

Sanji remained confused. "So…this child _isn't_ him."

"It is him. When he takes gleams, he pulls them into himself so that they resemble him – yet, they give him their quirks. So that every one of them looks as he does and did – but every one of them is a different individual." Sanji absorbed that, but grew confused on how he was supposed to identify a man that was basically a layered chimera. Corazon exhaled slow; the smell of cigarette smoke touched Sanji's senses. As well as a faint memory – but he couldn't grasp that memory long enough to see _why_it was a memory. "My death was years before he arrived here. Once I knew he could hear me…I never let him out of my sight."

Sanji thought about his mother; an unwilling image of her following after him, bathed in candlelight.

"Unfortunately…I knew what he was after. You can pick apart the layers, Sanji," Corazon added grimly. That hand reappeared, and offered the locket back. Sanji took it, then pushed it into his front pants pocket. "You can pick apart the people that he covers himself with. Once you have the right item in hand."

Sanji thought of the photo that Eustess had emerged from, then recalled that the basement was their primary storage area. But how would he know which ones belonged to Law? He wasn't even sure what Corazon was trying to tell him, and was wondering why Law sent him to the man in the first place. Was this a cry for help? Or a trap?

_Wait_ – why would he think that it was a trap…?

He watched the shadow move. He could hear the footsteps, and heard the rustle of clothing, but he couldn't quite get the man's image in mind to picture an expression. The voice was too murky to pick out any emotions from it.

"That's how you can open him up," Corazon added. "Everyone you've spoken to so far when you look at him – it's hard to tell which quirk belongs to him. None of those people are his true self."

"Why would he send me to you? It sounds like self-sabotage," Sanji murmured in confusion.

Corazon stopped moving, seemingly staring at him with consideration. Before he could say anything, movement from behind them caught their attention.

"Sanji? What are you doing here?"

Sanji turned with surprise to see Sora standing there, lighting the stairway with her soft glow. From the corner of his eye, Sanji watched as the shadow slowly retracted into itself before fading away completely. Frustrated, Sanji looked to Sora as she approached him.

To answer her question, he said, "Meeting with someone to find some answers. What are you doing here?"

"I was concerned." Sora's face was tense as she paused a few feet away, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm _concerned_, duckling. About your chosen company – about what he's doing to you."

Sanji swallowed tightly. "This is of my own choosing. I choose to be here, I choose to pursue….certain things. I feel like I'm on the verge of learning something that you…that I don't know of, and…now I'm more curious than ever."

"Why?" Sora asked with exasperation. She leaned up the railing, clasping her hands over the top of it. "You know you're being used! People like him, they - !"

"Maybe I want to be used," Sanji interrupted her quietly. "Maybe this is the only thing I have that's useful for someone to notice me. Someone other than the dead, of course."

"_Sanji_ \- !"

"I just…this is something I need to do. There's nothing you can do to convince me otherwise. I'm tired of…living under your shadow."

Sora frowned up at him, her expression sliding into dismay. Sanji looked away with a strong sense of guilt, but jammed his fists into his jacket pockets once more.

"You might be tired of my love for you, but I will never tire of expressing it," Sora said firmly. "You may feel that way, and I'm sorry that you do. But all I'm trying to do is save your life."

"This isn't 'saving my life'." Pausing short, Sanji collected himself before his exasperation could speak for him. "I feel completely cut off from everyone around me. And the moment someone invites me in…why is it wrong?"

"Because of what he does. Because of what he's capable of doing!"

"Never once was I pressured to perform as I am now, when I addressed it," Sanji said firmly. "And it's been…quite some time since we met."

After a few quiet moments, he added, "Maybe it's best if you….are free to go."

Sora stared up at him, hurt weighing on her features. Sanji struggled not to let the guilt take over, looking away to examine the darkness of the museum. "Staying around here…for what? Just to…torture yourself? To…those guys, it's fine, now. They're…they can't hurt anybody, no one can hurt them. I think it's just best that you…you move on, too. Things will be fine."

"That is…so hurtful…"

"I don't want it to be, but I _can't_ \- ! You're a _ghost_! You're a ghost, you can't – you're _done_ living, mother!"

Staring at him with frozen shock, Sora said nothing as his words seemed to echo within the quiet stretch of the museum. Sanji's hand went to his messy hair, tousling it unnecessarily before he said quickly, "I don't know how else to say it. There is no other way to say it. I can't…keep feeling this way every time - !"

"_Fine_," Sora said low, voice wavering as she crossed her arms over her chest and nodded with upset action. "Fine. You feel that way, then…I'm sure the others will appreciate my company."

"Mother, _please_ \- !"

"No, no, you're right. I've been…unnecessarily clingy with you. I just…can't stand the thought of seeing you grow up without…but you've made it clear that I'm unwelcome, and I…it's fine, Sanji. You're a grown man, now. It's fine if you feel that way."

"This is something that…you can do without making me feel like wet shit on the sidewalk – "

"It's not meant to make you feel guilt. But there will be a difference in your lifestyle. Differences….that only I was able to assist you with. Just…I'm sure your new friend can help you with that. Both of you are living in such hard denial of the fact – "

Sora quieted very suddenly, lips pursed as Sanji watched her painfully. With a struggle, she lifted her arms, indicating for him to hug her. After some tense moments passed, he abided by her silent command. Before she could touch him, that tall, large shadow popped up between them. Sanji felt the hard shove on his chest, knocking him right off his feet and hitting the hard floor on his back with an involuntary grunt.

"_Sanji_ \- ! What did you do that for?" he heard Sora exclaim, voice thin with distress as he managed to push himself up to his elbows, looking over to see that seemingly never-ending darkness practically block out the light she was capable of. He could only see the edges of her glow as the shadowy shape stayed between them.

"I, too, wanted to hold my son," the man said, his voice murky. "But learned the hard way that our contact with the living isn't always out of love."

"_Who are you_?"

_Son_? Sanji thought, bewildered at the term. It was the second time he'd heard Corazon refer to Law as his son, but with the dates between them…it was obvious that this wasn't possible.

"Sanji," Corazon then said, voice carrying as the man turned to face him. "If he sent you to me, then look for the book he loved. You'll understand, then."

"_What_?" Sanji repeated, confused. "I don't know a thing about what his likes or dislikes are – they change with his mood! If you're talking about him layered with different ghosts from different times, then where do I start to know who he actually is…?"

"Find the right mood under all those layers. You'll know it when you get to it."

"Sanji, don't listen to him! Don't listen to this fool!" Sora protested. "This should have nothing to do with you!"

_The bookstore_, Sanji thought without effort, furrowing his brow. How many hours did he spend at that place, perusing the rows and aisles without interruption? That dreadful feeling returned, and it made his breath short. He reached up to touch his face with both hands, feeling the angles and the cold of his skin.

_I'm _alive_, right_? he thought hysterically.

"Putting these ideas in his head," Sora snapped at the shadowy man.

_No, I'm _not_ dead_, Sanji then thought with relief. _Because I know when I was born. Because this is a modern world with modern conveniences. We're all modern conveniences, and I interact with the living, too. They _see_ me._

He then narrowed his eyes with irritation. _This is Law playing games with me,_ he then realized. _Using my unstable foundation to render me more insecure. _But _why_?

He thought about those long nights of Law's seemingly inane rambling. The constant moods he came to Sanji with. The quirks of a man with many different interests and a constantly revolving supply of accomplishments. The thought occurred to him in moments; almost a bright, weighty feeling of realization that warmed him from the stomach to chest like a finger in his insides. He gave a shaky exhale, wearing an expression of surprise.

"That fucking jerk," he then mumbled, turning away from the pair watching him. He then whirled back around, pointing at Corazon. "_I get it_. I get what he's doing."

"Then there's nothing more I can give you…" Corazon trailed off, then faded away just as quickly, leaving Sora standing there on her own. She looked after her son with trepidation, breathing slightly heavy.

"He'll be found out," she whispered to herself with fear. "He'll be found out - !"

: :

Once outside, Sanji saw the battered white van parked at the sidewalk. He walked cautiously in that direction, tucking his hands into his pockets as he considered what new knowledge he was given. Law watched him approach, opening the back door with a shove of the handle.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked lazily, while Penguin and Shachi argued between each other over the best pizzeria joints in the area.

Sanji frowned at Law, struggling to see the true personality behind that playful smirk of his. Reviewing the memories he had of various nights over various moods, it was difficult to say which one truly belonged to him. _A monumental and impossible task_, he thought with some building anxiety.

"I found him," Sanji answered crossly. "That's, uh…an unusual gleam he has."

"Mm. It truly is. He's the only one I've let go."

"Well, three if you count Zeff and my…my mom."

"Which will be remedied soon – "

Sanji withdrew the locket, holding it out to him. "Biology teacher, huh?"

"Just one of my few costumes, I assure you." Law took the locket and opened it, examining the picture. Once satisfied, he closed it with a snap. "He's a rambling man. It was difficult to shut him out and shut him up."

"So, why didn't you take his gleam?"

Law didn't answer, looking up at him. "So? How old am I?"

Sanji refused to answer that, swallowing as he realized that peeling layers from this man was going to be a task that felt and seemed unreasonable. But he started to piece together the differences he was able to identify. One thing was certain – he could not give himself away.

"He said this was your jacket."

"It was. I left it in your closet. You decided to claim it."

Sanji gave him an impatient look, shifting from foot to foot. His heart raced with a different sort of anxiety, but his face remained cold and impersonal. "Well, it is warm. Though, I can't see you wearing it."

"My tastes change. _Now_ do you believe me?"

Sanji shrugged lightly. "When do I start?"

"I have a job to finish, first," Law said with a light smile. "But it appears you're more accepting of the fact that my job is necessary. I have unfinished business."

Sanji gave a slow nod to signal that this was acceptable. "Let me talk to him one more time."

Law gave him the go-ahead with a wave of his hand.

"Give me your number."

Penguin and Shachi continued their argument, but their side eye towards each other spoke volumes. Each one cracked a smile opposite of each other, giving a thumbs up in response.

: :

Once home after work, Sanji peered into his closet. He was quite certain that these things he bought were his – not Law's. But now his memory was muddled and fuzzy, and he had to admit that he didn't think too much into anything lately. All that mattered was food and Law – now that he had something different to think about, a bigger picture had opened, and as a result, his mind felt sluggish with some vitality. It was time to get it opened and working.

He swept a hand through the hangars, looking at each piece individually. As he did so, he picked various things out and set them aside. It was as if he were working a puzzle. After the hangars, he pulled open drawers of a nearby plastic cabinet and began sorting through those as well.

Shoes were added to the pile.

When he was done, he rose and looked down at his work. He had four different outfits in different styles staring up at him. He was bewildered he hadn't noticed before, but Law's clothes were mixed in with his. There was an outfit with faded jeans, a button-down shirt with a brown vest, brown boots paired with those. There was a set of black trousers, a turtleneck shirt, leather belt and wingtip shoes. Another with a sleeveless tee, worn cargo shorts, and sneakers. The last outfit was a set of scrubs with worn black slip-on shoes. They were clearly fashion of various time periods. Hand to his forehead, Sanji wondered why he'd never noticed these things mixed in with his clothes.

Crouching down next to them, he began rifling through the pockets. He found a slip of paper with writing inside the scrubs bottoms, and pulled that open. It was a phone number and a name. '_Tony'_.

He dialed it from his cellphone, still crouched.

A young voice answered tentatively. "Hello?"

"Hu, uh…I'm…looking for Trafalgar Law," Sanji said with uncertainty, wondering who this kid was.

"Ah! Wow, that name is…_wow_. I haven't heard that name since I was a kid!" the boy exclaimed cheerfully. "He was my surgeon at the hospital – I entered medical school because of him."

Sanji curled his lips inward, nodding in acknowledgment of this piece of history. "When was that? Do you remember? When…you met him?"

"Oh, that was…I was eight back then, and so…I guess ten years ago. I graduated early," the boy said proudly.

_18?_ Sanji thought incredulously, rather impressed with this kid's intelligence and aspirations. "Wow. That's _amazing_. And you're in medical school already?"

"Yes! I just…he was a great surgeon back then, he was just, well, I was _super_ impressed. And my grandmother and grandfather had their doubts, but I didn't, and he's where I am today. I lost track of him, though, because I guess he moved, and – _oh_! Oh, gosh, I'm so flustered, I just haven't heard that name in so long – _who is this_?"

"Oh, I'm a fri – well, an old friend of his, and…I'm just…we lost contact, so…" Sanji scratched at his head with doubt, then said with much doubt, "Are…are you dead?"

"…No? Well…I'm pretty sure I'm alive," the kid answered with the same amount of incredulity. "Why? _AM I DEAD_? OH MY GOD! WAS THIS ALL A DREAM?"

Sanji cringed as the kid shouted with horror.

"_No, no, no_, I'm sure – I'm sure you're alive," he said weakly, sitting down on the floor. 'I just…wanted to make sure…"

"Ha ha ha! Well, I'm in the middle of mid-terms, so I might be just freaking out a bit, a little high strung, I'd believe anything!" Tony laughed nervously. "Anyway, the last time I heard of Law, he was…here, and then he retired. He, uh, told me once he had a father he was taking care of." He named the city Sanji was living in, then added, "I'm sure he might still be there. Try the hospitals."

"Oh, well…I'm doing an internet search now," Sanji lied, glancing in the direction of his laptop lying on the bed, "and…I don't see his name popping up…"

"Another thing Law told me he liked to do was, like, hang out in bookstores. Oh! And Halloween! He really liked dressing up for Halloween! When he was taking care of me, he dressed up as a vampire, and carried around someone's blood until one of the nurses scolded him for it. Um, the thing that was unusual for me was that…hm, he said he was visiting a friend at a bookstore down town, and…he…kind of alluded that this friend was…not all there," Tony added vaguely. "He said he was having trouble talking to him because…I don't know, something like he didn't believe in reality..."

Sanji fretted for a few moments, once again questioning his own reality. But he was certain he was alive. He was not some ghost – he was pretty sure _he was still alive_.

"But you should definitely try there! Maybe he's still hanging around there," Tony suggested. "I hope you find him! If you do, please give him my number! I'd like to talk to him again."

"I will. And…good luck with your exams," Sanji said warmly. "You're amazing."

"Thank you! Oh, who is this?"

Sanji hung up, a little unsettled. He stared around his quiet apartment, noting the furniture he'd gained throughout the years. _Was it all his_? He had the startling thought that perhaps it wasn't –maybe Law's things were as mixed with his as his clothes were. But that wasn't right…these were only night visits. Rain pattered quietly against the windowpanes – he could see streaks of water at the curved windows nearest the ceiling.

He then reached into the next outfit, withdrawing a folded movie ticket with a popular movie that had been released in the 70's. His eyebrows lifted at the authenticity of the paper, the date, and how much movies were back then. Smelling it, he caught the scent of cigarettes, popcorn and detergent. He glanced over the outfit once more, trying to imagine Law as a 70's man. The sideburns fit…

He set that aside to look over facts and trivia relating to the movie for conversation. He'd bring it up carefully. He found a food receipt in the other pocket – it had the name of his restaurant on it. Coincidentally, he was the server.

The only thing that didn't make sense was that the date was _wrong_.

He lowered the paper to the floor, heart racing with renewed anxiety.

: :

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Shachi asked Law skeptically as they faced the Vinsmoke house. He'd already deactivated the security system, and was standing at the front steps with sword against his shoulder. They'd watched Judge leave just minutes earlier. "Sending that guy on a scavenger hunt?"

Law's cheek twitched for a moment before looking at Shachi. "What's the harm in it?"

"There is…_much_ harm in it," Shachi murmured with concern.

"You mean, I didn't mention that he could hear them, they can hear him, and that he can touch them, and they can touch him back? We can use that."

"Don't give me that smart ass attitude right now. I'm _tired_." Shachi shifted from foot to foot. "The only goal is the amount of gleams we're gathering to make us stronger, right? And he can lead us in that direction without having to rely on the forums."

"Of course. Where's Penguin?"

"Back at the bar. We need more boxes for this…renewed effort."

"It's only the gleams of those we can't take. Those are usually built upon demand."

"We should do an inventory down there," Shachi then suggested. "You should be there to see why we're doing this in advance."

"Ah…maybe I should," Law murmured thoughtfully, ascending the stairway as Shachi followed. "It's been awhile since I've been down there."

"When was the last time you were down in the basement?" Shachi asked, entering the code before Law could jiggle the handle.

Law had to think about it. He realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd visited the Polar Tang's basement. He gave Shachi a curious look as Shachi looked back at him.

"I don't…remember…" Law then shook his head. "Just…Sanji himself doesn't need to be there, either. Too much…noise could muddle his thoughts. He's just a fragile little creature, eh? Got too many thoughts racing through his words."

Shachi lifted an eyebrow. "I _vaguely_ remember the guy talking through your mouth right now…"

Law cleared his throat with irritation, then shouldered the door open, breaking the lock. "Sorry. Bad habit of mine."

Shachi wondered if Sanji Vinsmoke had been able to see the layers that had been brought to his attention yet. It would help them all if he could. At the same time, he felt bad for the other man.

It had been much too long for the both of them.

"Two and a half _years_," he heard Law murmur incredulously to himself, striding into the house. "Can you believe it?"

Shachi's eyebrows lifted as he walked in after him. He was pretty sure it had been longer than that. It was incredible how much had been forgotten. But he wasn't going to say that.


	7. Where I Met You First

**7: Where I Met You First**

* * *

"You're back," Zeff said, folding his arms over his chest as he watched Law approach.

"You'll be happy to know that I was given permission to assist you to the light," Law responded, lowering his sword. "I'm a kind, generous person."

"At least assure me that the boy is in the right hands." Zeff paused before looking at him with a cocked eyebrow. "The last time ya intervened, much as you helped, things didn't go as planned."

An anguished cry suddenly exploded within the house, and Law couldn't help but react. He whirled around, eyes darting here and there, looking for the source of the sound. But all he heard after was the tick of the clock, and Shachi's whisper of fright from the front foyer, where he was look-out. A slight shiver raced over Law's skin – that cry wasn't from something unfamiliar; it had been familiar, a familiar _something_ that seemed to feel like a memory. But because it was buried under so much layering memories, it wasn't something easily recalled.

He looked back at Zeff with a start, the older man waiting patiently near the stove.

"One of the kids…?" he asked lightly, indicating behind him. "Reliving their deaths…?"

"Don't play stupid," Zeff muttered low. "Ya know exactly where that came from."

Law suddenly felt that Zeff's gleam wasn't worth the aggravation. With a grit of his teeth, he lowered his sword once more. Law then allowed his eyes to take in the kitchen's differences. It was in the middle of renovating, and pieces of the floor were exposed to allow new linoleum in. Tools had been abandoned by the last contractors' hasty exit, and there was the smell of chalk and sawdust left behind. Law wasn't sure what he was looking at – it simply looked like a site that had been abandoned by a ghost's interference.

Zeff's expression turned irritated. He gave a sharp exhale. "It's that problem of yours, the one we been talking about. The one we keep bringing up _every_time you come through those doors, uninvited."

Law frowned at him. He glanced back at Shachi, who was still looking out onto the street, back to them. But the man was holding onto a laptop with one hand, and the other was holding a recording device – it captured EVPs. Shachi brought it with him everywhere whenever they went out – part of the necessary equipment, part of their crew's supplies. While Law was able to see and hear ghosts (to a limited degree) the others barely had the capability. They were aware of ghosts, but their ears had yet to catch –

"Boy," Zeff then said, rather gently, "aint'cha tired of carrying around all that weight?"

"You calling me fat, old man?"

Zeff snorted. He gave a shuffle of his feet (_feet_, Law noticed with some slow realization) and pushed away from the stove. Zeff watched him for several moments, then began a slow walk through the area. His hand waved about, gesturing at remaining parts that had yet to be touched by a new hand.

"Ya gave it away once. This time around, it's obvious you're just usin' him, because ya forgot. _Forgot_, or just one cruel sonofabitch."

Law watched him with frustration dawning on his features as he failed to understand what Zeff was telling him. It felt as if Zeff were only giving him the top of the iceberg; obvious, yet understated. _Why? Was it a trap_? he wondered dully. Why a _trap_?

"Sanji can hear ghosts," Zeff said slowly, "and it appears he's heard ya complain long enough."

"Am I being dumped?" Law asked with a light laugh. "He won't do it to my face, but through you?"

"Point is, which one of you is he tired of?"

Law frowned at him as Zeff seemed to wear a smirk.

"You're only seeing and hearing the things ya want," Zeff added, his voice tense. "And you're disregarding what he'll think once he gets the truth out of you. And he's gonna do it, y'know. That kid was always good at finding out the truth."

Law felt the gravity in that statement. There was something heavy and foreign in his tone. But as upsetting as it was, which one of his ghosts were being bothered by the man's words? The more he read into Zeff's tone, the more he began to understand that he was missing a different picture entirely. Something obvious.

Another part of him snapped like a piece of uncooked spaghetti – his sword was driven deep and through the startled ghost, halving him. Before Zeff could say or do anything, his ghost scattered into the silence like ashes. The gleam left behind shimmered dully before making its way towards Law's outstretched hand. Once it touched down into his upraised palm, the light spread over his skin and disappeared.

All at once, Law felt Zeff cloud his senses. He saw various kitchens in front of him, smelled different foods, tasted different spoons – a clatter of voices rose and fell in the background, memory after memory dragging over his eyes like a cloud of color and weight. None of them individual – but he felt them like they were his.

As such, he knew then what Zeff had been talking about. Because while they weren't his, they were things he'd seen with his own eyes, heard with his own ears – experienced with his own memory.

Sanji looking up at him with confusion, with pain, with hesitation – at various stages in his life.

But Law _realized_ what Zeff was trying to tell him about the kitchen. For a few moments, it was without the renovation tools and the half-finished atmosphere. It was complete and whole; where stained steel sparkled and the floors were clean. It smelled of actual food and had an inviting feel to it that made it feel like it was part of a home. There were kids' voices in the distance, and a woman's laughter that made it familiar. It suddenly grew unsettling how crystal clear these things were.

Almost as if he'd stepped through time itself to be there at that exact moment he was viewing it. As if he were Zeff himself. As if he, Trafalgar Law, _was there all this time_.

He realized then Shachi was speaking to him, and looked up with a start to the doorway. The man stood there with hesitation, dark glasses preventing Law from seeing the expression in his eyes.

"You good?" Shachi asked him, adjusting the laptop on his arm, recorder clacking against it.

It took Law a few moments to speak. But he nodded first, lowering his sword. "Y-yeah. Everything's…everything's _fine_."

"Did you get him?" Shachi asked him, seemingly unaware of Law's mood.

Law nodded slowly, then repeated it. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"You rattled?"

"I just…absorbing. I'm absorbing."

"Okay, man, take your time."

Law could hear himself tell Sanji what kind of ghosts he hunted, and it unsettled him.

"No…separation issues…?" Shachi then murmured, causing Law a jolt. He glanced at him again, looking at the hand that seemed to warm. Zeff's gleam was visible there – a dull grey color that seemed to shimmer once before fading slowly into his skin.

"There are no separation issues," Law murmured, feeling rattled and having no idea why he felt that way. "Unless I force it. Now…I need to find the item he loved the most. Hold on."

Shachi watched him walk slowly through the kitchen, wearing a dazed expression. While it wasn't uncommon for Law to react this way after obtaining a gleam, it was understandable that he seemed unusually nervous. This rare change of manner and attention felt _right_, Shachi admitted. This blundering method appeared to be working – why it took this long to do so only convinced Shachi that this was the _right_ thing to do.

It was all a matter of actually getting there that worried him. They'd come so close before. Not all gleams were easy to surrender – some put up a fight if they were strong enough. Others admitted defeat only after they realized it was their time to go. Gleams were as tempestuous as their former souls were.

But those layers were growing stronger – fighting Law. Now it was a matter of time for Law to actually see it.

Shachi wondered just how deep Law had to go just to realize what exactly was happening.

: :

Sanji left the restaurant after work, taking his usual route to home. He could feel Sora following him – he could feel the weight of her stare, feel the accusing heat of her thoughts. His mother was angry with him, but she was also giving him some space. He glanced at her from time to time in the passing windows of cars and storefronts. But he mostly kept his head down to avoid making eye contact with those that knew he could hear and see.

From his jacket pocket, he withdrew another clue he'd found earlier. It was a single word written on a piece of paper – "Eat." Law's handwriting was apparent, but was it a note to himself or was it another clue? The paper was faded and wrinkled, but it was obviously kept with a sense of affection. Which made him wonder – who was this? Should he feel jealous? Did he have a right to feel jealous?

A complicated feeling that made Sanji feel even more complicated.

He made meals for Law, before. Plenty of them. Whether or not he indulged was something Sanji wasn't sure of because he never stuck around to check. Was he the only one? He didn't think so. He knew that he wasn't the only one – why would he be?

Feeling heavy with too many conflicting feelings, he paused at a crosswalk and stared into the distance with his hands in his pockets. He watched the puddles below the curb ripple with traffic activity; the heavy roar of a plane passing overhead rattled windows and the air, its engines blasting. Sanji blinked heavy and slow behind the lenses of his glasses as he momentarily lost himself in the sensation of…what? Hurt?

He just wasn't sure.

_What were they_?

This complicated web was growing stronger and thicker, and Sanji was feeling indecisive about it. He wanted to be involved – he knew why he was involved, it was something at the back of his mind that made him feel good – so this was a choice he didn't regret. But the feelings that surrounded the task…well…those were complicated.

He followed foot traffic across the street, feeling a shiver race up his spine. Without thinking about it, he headed to the bookstore. Before he entered, he saw Sora following with a silent frown, her light hair limp against her swollen features.

The usual ghosts there glanced at Sanji from their various positions throughout the bookstore. Sanji found it unusual that none of them approached as they usually did. They stood still at statues, following his movements with just tilts of their heads or darts of their eyes. He felt unsettled, that shiver returning as he aimlessly too to the left and struggled to think about the book Corazon mentioned.

His mind was scattered. Was he always this scattered?

He walked the aisles with a sense of loss, eyes taking in titles he didn't really read. He adjusted his glasses upon his nose and tried to think.

He brought up memories of past conversations, but nothing stood out. How was he to know what Law's favorite book was if he didn't remember that sort of particular detail? Day to day living was spent avoiding interaction and wanting interaction – his mind was scattered. _He_ was scattered. It was the first time in a long time where he felt he was useful and needed to the living.

With a hard exhale, he began moving through the aisles, taking comfort in the quiet murmuring of the living and still with one eye on the dead. They were following him silently, he noticed. A strange occurrence, considering how they usually approached him with their desperate voices and urgencies. He found himself in the young adult section, and noticed with a wary frown that "vampires" were their own group.

_He is a vampire_, Sanji reasoned with himself. _Sucking what was left of the dead so that he could live forever. Why do that? Why give yourself immortality when those around you disappeared?_

Wasn't it lonely?

Living alone was lonely. He hiked his bag up onto one shoulder and slowly bypassed the area. _Of course_ perhaps Law was just interested in the changes around him. He was the type to be curious about things.

Sanji thought of Corazon's warning to Sora. About touching those they loved...

It was absurd to think that Sora had anything to do with her children's deaths. She loved them too much. Sanji couldn't keep that thought long enough to embellish enough detail to consider Law's accusations.

He just wanted her gleam.

Sanji plucked a random book off a shelf as he passed it and took a seat near the windows. As he settled in the chair, he was aware that attention was being diverted his way. He glanced up to see the ghosts surrounding him like colorful shadows - movement outside the window told him those from the outside were standing just outside the glass, looking in.

He forced himself to concentrate on the book.

'His eyes widened, and all he saw was a glittering darkness that gave him nothing. Like falling into a pool of stars...he breathed out, then breathed in. Nothing happened. His lungs did not fill with water, and he breathed normally, as if uninterrupted. He looked down at himself. His clothes were clearly wet, but they didn't move with the rippling of the water. He was just…static.'

Was that what death was like? Static? Never moving forward or backward?

He thought of the receipt - it was the wrong date.

Once again, Sanji realized just how still and uninterrupted his life was. Like static. His mind muddled and his thoughts muted - his every day actions robotic and unmoving.

He wiped his face with a shaking hand. He was _alive_. He was sure of it. Positive.

It suddenly occurred to him that a ghost he had never met had known his name. Corazon had called him by his name twice in their conversation. Sanji stilled. He looked back down at the book and closed it, leaving it abandoned on the chair as he grabbed his bag and left the store.

: :

"You knew my name."

The massive shadow could be dismissed as that - splashed against the wall behind a large potted plant. The museum was alive with activity, and Sanji kept his voice low. Corazon's gleam wavered and tumbled over itself like a loop.

Because he couldn't see his features, Sanji assumed Corazon was looking at him.

"I do," the murky voice answered. A sound that could be easily lost in the low murmur of voices around them. "Of course I would."

"I've never spoken to you, before."

"I know who you are. Law introduced us."

Sanji gave him a mystified expressive, absolutely positive this hadn't happened.

The shadow shifted ever so slightly. Sanji had the impression he was leaning against it, watching the street outside. "You're asking yourself how? When you've only met in secret...right?"

"It wasn't a secret," Corazon continued. Sanji could smell cigarette smoke all of a sudden, a sharp scent that made his nose wrinkle. "He sent you to me to be cruel. You know that, right?"

Sanji felt that uncomfortable sensation of pain in his chest. All that showed was a tug at his lips, weight that made him look down.

"Why?" he asked tentatively. "Why would he...?"

"Because it's been two and a half years, Sanji. Since you met." The shadow shifted, obviously distorted. Like a crow ruffling its wings. "_Again_."

Sanji wire a confused expression. "The receipt from the restaurant...? It's…not the right date."

"You wouldn't. Sanji," Corazon then said while Sanji's fingernails dug into his palms as he curled them into fists. "The man sent you to die. For your gleam."

"No," Sanji denied breathlessly, "for my mother's."

"Hers, too. For revenge. Something neither of us will understand. Something…happened between him and your mother, and it's coming back to him. I doubt even those blokes around him know the exact reason."

The shadow pulled away from the wall, moving down the hall like the cone of a spot light. Easily sweeping into natural shadows cast by the building lights.

"He probably won't even tell you, either."

Sanji started after him with mystification.

: :

Law watched Sanji approach him through the crowded bar. Seeing his expression caused him to straighten up with mild concern.

"Corazon got into your head, did he?" he said while Jean Bart set two glasses down between them and poured the first round.

Sanji struggled with his expression and fought to retrieve the right words. It was so noisy in the Polar Tang. He could feel Sora staring at him from outside.

"What am I doing here?" he asked low.

Law indicated he take a seat. Napkins were tossed from a fight and women shrilled with laughter. It may have been a full bar, but every single ghost was staring silently at Sanji.

Sanji refused the stool.

"Corazon says things to upset many people," Law said lightly. "And he got to you. So, what did he say, so that I may clean it up?"

Sanji tongued his teeth with irritation. "He says you won't tell me the truth."

Law finished the contents of the glass, giving a satisfied exhale. He finished Sanji's, too. "Are you are questioning yourself? Thinking you're dead? It wouldn't be surprising to think that you are. The living don't even give you the time of day, do they? I imagine this is how they feel," Law murmured thoughtfully.

"He said he knows me because you introduced us. And," Sanji put the restaurant receipt down on the counter between them. Law glanced at it, then seemed to stiffen. Only his eyes shifted back to the other man's. "And this...what is this?"

Law took the piece of paper, handling it gently. Sanji watched him cautiously, hands dusting in his jacket pockets. He noticed that Jean Bart's eyebrows rose with mild surprise before he shifted away from them, giving them space.

It made Sanji nervous.

Law exhaled before smoothing it back over the counter. "Interesting," he murmured low. "That was...years ago."

Sanji waited for him to expand on that, but Law seemed resolved to stare at the piece of paper with a distant expression. "_What_. _Does_. _It_. _Mean_?" he asked again, with barely restrained panic.

Law crushed the paper within one hand before turning his head to look at him. He seemed older this time. The lights of the bar forcing the impression of silver hair around his face, with carved wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. Sanji gave a shocked sound before Law straightened up and the impression was gone.

"Corazon upset you," Law answered. "I was wrong to send you to him. I didn't think he'd say things like that to hurt you."

"...I don't understand."

Do you believe in reincarnation, Sanji?"

"Wha...? _No_."

"I don't, either." Law slipped away from the stool as Sanji looked at him with confusion. "The only one that's dead is me. You're alive. You breathe, feel, and fear, right? Everything else is just coincidence."

Sanji allowed Law's touch to his face because he needed to feel. Because now he was confused and now he was aware that every part of him felt that something was wrong.

"But your mother is wrong, Sanji. She is the one that is wrong."

Sanji didn't like the venom in his tone, instinctively pulling his face out of Law's touch. His chin set as his shoulders stiffened.

"You don't even know her. You know nothing about her!"

"Why do you keep protecting her?"

"She is not what you think she is!"

"Only a mother would convince her child that she loved him, if that was the only love the child knew." Law gave him a gentle smile, and once again, the bar's light seemed to create a different face. Sanji was uncomfortable with this Law - this gleam, this ghost - _whatever_ and _whoever_ felt both like a stranger and like a trusted friend at the same time. He felt denial build up in his throat, but it emerged like a croak as he spoke.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"If Cora told you you were dead, would you believe him?"

"I'm alive," Sanji said with trouble. "Stop trying to kill me off...! What is with these goddamn mindfucks you're - ?"

"Then why are you never there when I wake up?" Late asked him, with a hurt tone of his own.

Sanji jerked away from him, stepping back. "Because I have a job! I have a life, I can't just-!"

"I keep having to find you. _She_ is the one pulling you away from me, simply because she refuses to admit what she's done. She doesn't want you to wake up, Sanji. She doesn't want you with me. She keeps…taking you _away_," Law stressed tightly, struggling to repress himself while Sanji absorbed this unusual mannerism.

"You're fucking crazy," Sanji told him, drawing back with distress clear on his features. "You're _crazy_!"

"Am I? Have you looked at the place you sleep in? Tell me, Sanji, have you drank from those bottles? Do you remember where you bought the paintings? Where do you go when you wake up? Do you remember working? What do you do when you get to work? Can you name your colleagues individually?"

Sanji started at him in mute denial, feeling his heart slam hard again his chest. His fingertips felt numb. His mouth worked but nothing emerged. But he did think about those things. His brow furrowed ever so slightly. He didn't even _like_ wine…

Law watched him quietly, and at that moment, Sanji realized Corazon was right. The cruelty at this moment felt like a tear in his lungs. He swallowed hard, taking a few steps back. Glancing around, he met the silent gazes of the ghosts that watched him.

"Leave me alone," he then muttered. "Don't ever talk to me again."

Law didn't respond, but he watched Sanji leave him.

"You're confusing things," Jean Bart said from behind the bar. Law blinked a few times, and realized that this sensation of anger wasn't his. It felt like he'd just walked into a room where an argument had just taken place. He rubbed his chest, unsure of why it hurt. "Gleams don't last forever. Why should that one?"

Law looked back at him with confusion. "He doesn't have a gleam. He's…alive."

"Figure it out. _Fast_. Before someone gets hurt. An' I'm not talking the physical things. You're going to find yourself alone, again." Jean Bart looked at him with a seemingly scolding expression before Law nodded, still confused. "The boxes are ready."

"Ready for what?"

Jean Bart paused for a moment, wiping his glasses clean. "They're just ready…in case you need them."

: :

Once home, Sanji set his bag down and walked straight to the bookshelf. He pulled out a journal with a maroon cover. Uncapping his pen, he headed over to the dining room table and sat down. He wrote down everything that had happened, leaving no detail out.

After he captured his thoughts on paper, he got up and put some water on for tea. He made toast, then set his dinner down at the table alongside his journal.

_Bastard_, he thought. _He thinks he's so fucking slick_.

He wrote that down and punctuated it with underlines.

Sipping at his tea, he stared out at the city that was overcast and gloomy. He ate his toast and then flipped through the journal, page by page.

_His favorite book_, Sanji thought with frustration. _How would I know when I've never seen him read_?

He flipped through the pages. He had written mainly of Law. What the man wore, what he said, what he smelled like. How his back muscles seemed to gleam and pop in the hot summer's night, and how his tanned skin paled during the winter. Sanji wrote about the topics Law talked about and checked for any repeats - but Law never seemed to talk about one thing twice. Sanji found himself blushing as he shook his head – he was both obsessed and pathetic. Worshipping this man that just played games with his head…!

He shut the book with frustration.

Law was not an easy man to get close to. Sanji understood this, but Sanji also understood why this was happening. He might have a scattered mind, not remember day to day things - but he had plenty of time to think. He opened the book again. He wrote down the names of his coworkers. The dates they started, how many of them took their breaks, individual quirks.

He was _alive_.

_Reincarnation_, he wrote, underlining it. It was the first time Law brought it up. Sanji felt uncomfortable thinking about it. The receipt. Laws reaction to it. Jean Bart's reaction. The ghost that had taken over was a calculating one - and Sanji wouldn't even know who he was.

Law was bent on getting to Sora - it didn't sound as if it were her gleam that he was focused on. There was a different sort of anger in his tone when he spoek of her, as if there was some time of history…

_Please, o please_, he thought with intense dread, _please don't tell me they had an affair or something before I came along_! _This is why I can't trust vampires_!

Sanji didn't want to think so, but was he in type of danger? No. Sora loved him. She loved all of them. She was not capable of any type of death unless it were her own.

He tapped his own against the paper. For the first time in a long time, he thought about the deaths of his siblings.

::

Ichiji paced the street, breathing heavily. He was a ghost caught either in the moment of his death, or after. His face was bleeding and ruined, cut by pieces of windshield. His clothing smoldered with the battery fire after. Sanji watched him cautiously as Ichiji cursed in the midst of his pacing. He slowed to a stop in the grassy knoll just above the scene of his older brother's death, as traffic flowed through the ghost without slowing.

He watched Ichiji breathe and heave, red hair bouncing with each step.

"Ichi," Sanji called out, voice barely heard over the sounds of traffic. The air tumbled ominously above his head, the smell of rain thick and smothering. He grasped his own arms in a hug. He was wearing a different jacket - this one black and scarred with time's use. He'd removed his glasses to see, but Ichiji was easily seen in flashing traffic lights and the whip of vehicle headlights.

Ichiji glances up at him irritably. "_What_?" he snapped, breathless.

"You're dead, Ichiji. Isn't it time to move on?"

"Oh, fuck you and your insane ramblings. I'm not dead - but my car is!"

Sanji looked upon him with pity as the ghost of his older brother stomped back and forth in front of the black scar on the asphalt. "Ichiji. You've been dead for years. I'm older than you, now."

"_Bullshit_! What do you want?"

"Did mother love you?"

Ichiji stopped pacing to look up at him. His head tilted with bewilderment. "_Of course_ she did! When she was alive - why would you ask that?"

"Do you see her?"

"I'm not you! I'm not insane! Schizo!"

"Does she speak to you?"

"She's DEAD, Sanji! Of course not!"

"What are you doing?" Sora asked from behind Sanji, her voice tight.

Sanji glanced at her, then gestured at his brother, who had resumed pacing.

"If you and Zeff can communicate, why can't you with him?" Sanji asked her.

Sora looked upon her eldest son with regret. Her expression reflected pain and helplessness as her arms folded over her chest. "Not all of us can speak to each other, Sanji. You've learned this."

"Only those with a gleam can see each other?"

Sora joined him on the knoll, looking down at the eldest brother - Ichiji hadn't even turned twenty. Her eyes seemed to shimmer as he continued to shout with agitation, looking at a car that had been removed long ago.

"Only you know the answer to this question," she said tersely. She looked up at Sanji. "Why is this important?"

"I need answers - "

"For a man that wants to kill you?"

"If he wanted to, he would have."

"Sanji..." Sora looked up at him with pain in her eyes. "Can't you already see where this will lead to?"

"I am trying to - "

"_Again_?"

Sanji started down at her with confusion. Rain fell in a soft drizzle, ringing off the trash littering the sides of the road, and the guardrail that separated the knoll from the street. It forced his hair to hug his head, to needle against his skin with the sensation of acid.

"Again?" he questioned thinly.

Sora exhaled shakily, clutching her hands together. She had yet to break eye contact as Ichiji's curses rang out over the noisy din.

But she nodded once. "Again," she confirmed in a whisper.

"You already know when," she then said quickly as Sanji made to deny this. "Because it was then you started to see and hear them. Us. The ghosts. He tried to kill you, he tried to kill all of us…"

Sanji stared at her silently, unable to understand. She reached out to touch him, her fingers as warm as the day she'd last touched him before her death.

"I'm trying to prevent that. Because this time, you won't come back. He won't let you go."

He jerked his head back from her hands, giving an outraged sound.

"Call dad, you dumb ass!" Ichiji shouted up at him impatiently. "Call him and tell him I messed up the car!"

Sanji managed a look in his direction, then looked back at Sora.

"When?" he asked Sora, whose shaking hands went to her face with agitation, as if trying to cover her eyes. "When did this….happen?"

"He..." Sora trailed off. She wore an expression of guilty upset, looking back at Ichiji once more as Sanji grew steadily frustrated. "He tried to kill…_all_ of us…he tried to take my children away from me…this time…this time it won't happen. You…the others…_none_ of you will be taken from me."

"You're already dead -!" he reminded her tersely. "They're already dead - !"

"We're still _here_, Sanji!"

Sanji gave a jerk of his hands. "And you shouldn't be! You should be in heaven, or wherever we go-!"

"_Not when you all are still here_!"

Soras shout rang out within the rain, above the sounds of traffic. Ichiji himself paused in mid-stride, looking around himself with a puzzled frown. Cars zipped through him lightly, headlights interrupting his form.

"..._mother_?" he asked softly, breath shuddering ever so slightly.

Sanji glanced over at him, a little startled by his oldest brother's expression. Sora was suddenly near Ichiji, her expression grim. For a moment, her form shimmered brilliantly, as if alit by a strobe. Ichiji looked at her with shocked alarm. At that moment, a fast approaching car took the turn a little too fast, rubber screeching over asphalt. The headlights illuminated Ichiji's form as a solid being, and the driver reacted violently to avoid hitting him.

In the split second, Sanji watched as Sora looked directly at him.

The car slammed off of the guardrail, overcorrected and rammed into the opposite rail with a crash of glass and shattering plastic. A truck driving behind it attempted to slow, but struck the guardrail and careened right over it.

The headlights blinded Sanji for that moment, and he instinctively jerked back, falling to the ground just as the truck rolled over him. Debris and vehicle fluids splashed him as he rolled down the knoll, a shattered post stopping his descent as the truck was commanded to a stop.

Moments later, another vehicle veered directly towards him in an effort to avoid the first vehicle, headlights blinding him as brakes screeched and rubber screamed noisily.

At that moment, watching incoming impact, Sanji froze.

: :

At the Polar Tang, Law slowly lowered the glass to the bar counter. His expression was stiff, eyes unblinking as the feeling settled over him. All around him was a noisy chaos, but he couldn't hear any of it. The faint, shrill shriek of vehicular impact rang through his thoughts like a hot knife through butter.

Jean Bart asked him a question, but Law didn't hear it. He slipped away from the stool and snatched his jacket and sword from the back. He left the bar without saying anything to anyone.

At Sanji's apartment, he let himself in. The lights were still on, tea and toast abandoned at the table. Law set his sword and jacket down on the couch and removed his boots before he could track water any further.

With a sense of numbness, he moved towards the table. The closed journal with a pen tucked inside caught his attention. He ran his fingers over it, lifted the cover and some pages just to allow it to flutter back down. The pen rolled out and clattered onto the floor with a sense of ringing loudness that made him wince.

He looked up as rain pelted the windows with the force of hail. Looking out of one of them was Sanji, his rain heavy jacket dripping onto the floor. With his head turned away from Law, Law felt his throat tighten with a hard swallow. His lungs felt constricted all of a sudden, as if someone were grabbing them from within and holding on tight.

His steps were soft as he walked over, the other man silent and still.

Lifting his hand, Law noticed it shaking as he extended it. He was aware that he was holding his breath but his heart was slamming so hard that he thought it was the only true sound in the apartment.

_No, no, no, no_… he thought, over and over in a frozen litany.

"I thought I told you I didn't want to talk to you."

Law heard Sanji speak but he continued reaching. His fingers jammed into Sanji's wet jacket and he gave a heaving exhale that was filled with all his feelings behind it. Sanji turned and looked at him with irritation.

Giving an awkward shrug as he lowered his hand, Law said, "I thought you were a ghost. I can't touch ghosts," he added as a reminder.

Sanji turned to face him, jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth. "Tell me about the first time we met."

"The bookstore? How could you forget that?" Law asked, feigning hurt.

"No. Not that time."

Law frowned at him.

Sanji read his expression, his own drawing with immense dismay.

"It...wasn't me," Law finally decided to say. "It was…Patricia."

"Now's not the time for jokes or sarcasm, shit head."

Law searched his foreign memories for the answer. He saw smiling faces, laughter, tears and excitement. Accomplishments that weren't his. Failures that he could feel but weren't his. Touch, breath, pain, fear - until he saw the memory of a woman floating in water.

That memory was shrouded with rain as cold and dark as present day. Thunder tumbled overhead, and he found himself stepping onto a bridge where rain pelted the water below with such force that it was difficult to see the depths.

But the body..._she_ floated at the surface. Face pale, eyes unblinking as they stared at the heavy clouds above, blond hair caught in some low hanging branches. There was a heavy, pregnant stomach protruding from the water like a clothed ball.

In that time, Law was still a shroud of movement without feeling - he had the gleam he never thought he'd have, and it was killing him slowly. It was the first time he'd regretted taking someone else's brilliant light.

_Help them_, he heard himself say to himself.

_That's not my voice_. Law was a man of numb energy and scattered thoughts, grieving…but here was an opportunity to release and yet still have the comfort of knowing he'd given life.

He'd thrown himself into the water and dragged the woman out. After chest compressions and desperate breaths, knowing that the she was long gone, Law had given her gleams he wouldn't remember, including the one he regretted the most. The woman choked and woke, and as Law stood to give her space, the woman had seen him. Her eyes were glazed, unseeing as they swept around their surroundings. She seemed to shake her head in denial at that moment, hands clutching her rounded belly, pressing in and feeling for movement. Law had felt that he'd made some type of mistake – she kept shaking her head. She then looked back at him, and wore an expression of heartbreak.

Her shrill screams drew attention and Law had walked away quickly. He could still hear them, sometimes. Accusing and grateful at the same time.

He never tracked her down after that. He didn't bother with details. But the moment he saw the waiter in Sanji's features...well, he couldn't quite admit that he worked fast to obtain him. Sanji _wasn't_the waiter. Never would be - he was the polar opposite of that confident, cheerful and bold man Law had known. He was someone different. Law could hold his boundaries with his own misguided confidence, and know he couldn't hurt as hard as he did if this one left him too.

But _two and a half years_ convinced him otherwise. Maybe his insistence on Sora's death was relying on the fact that he felt – _one of his layers felt_ – she could take away the one gleam Law had treasured the most. For some reason, that explanation felt right. But it was also confusing as fuck because Law did not have all the answers to know _details_.

He blinked and the memory faded into nothingness. He looked to Sanji, who watched him stoically.

"I gave you life," he said slowly, recalling what he could. In a matter of moments, the answers suddenly easier. He looked to Sanji with quiet confidence. "Not your death."

"...a gleam?"

"...yes. A gleam, one gleam. Something…that I should've never took in the first place. But…I couldn't allow to continue linger….like the others."

Sanji absorbed this answer. He watched Law's face as it tensed and steeled, and suddenly he realized that this was the real one. He swallowed hard, and his jacket creaked as he reached up to touch the other man's face. It was cold and unyielding- like the feel of his mother, lying stiffly in her coffin.

He felt the truth in those words, convinced even further by the unnatural sadness that those eyes carried.

"After all this shit that's happened so far," he said slowly, drawing his fingers over the rigidity of Law's tense jaw and cheek, "I know who you are."

Law couldn't speak for several moments. Sanji's fingers were cold against his skin - just as rigid as his face. But Law was tense and uncertain, feeling his heart beat with a skip as Sanji's face grew gentle and soft in a matter of moments.

"You do?" Law questioned with some hesitation. _He_wasn't even sure who he was, anymore. So his mind raced with scattered doubt and insecurity, because how could this man know him more than he knew himself?

"Yeah," Sanji answered, brow furrowing ever so slightly as he heard this weighty doubt. He closed his fingers over Law's lips to silence his questions. "You're a fucking _vampire_."

"_Fucking hell_ -!"

Sanji turned away from him, removing his coat as Law exploded with impatience. Striding to his closet, he said, "You told me gleams don't last. They're a drug, the high runs out, so how is it -?"

"It was enough to sustain. You lived. That was the point."

"What, were you feeling generous?"

"_Dumb_."

Sanji slowed his motions as he hung his coat up. Then gently closed the door. "The waiter."

"The - "

"The others know. All this...telepathic lovemaking between you all. They don't talk or look at me directly. In fact, they pretend I'm not actually there. Some ghosts can't see other ghosts." Sanji turned to look at him, noticing Law's bitter look at the window. "Am I a vampire too?"

"The gleam I'd given you is long gone."

"I have no memory of this incident."

"...You couldn't possibly remember it."

Sanji gave him a disgusted look. "You pervert."

Law shrugged carelessly. "Immense coincidence that I happened to run into you again."

"Why are you so focused on my mother? And don't tell me because it's only her gleam – a gleam - that has your interest! There is…almost regret in your earlier answer."

Law looked away from him, running a hand through his wet hair. Sanji watched him, noticing the minute difference in his stance. Disappointment made a weight harden in his midsection. The Law he'd uncovered was gone - replaced by a man with a heavy slouch and pouty features.

"At first it was," he muttered. "I just wanted her gleam…but now…someone inside of me is remembering more. There are things happening that _I'm_ not even aware of, and it's…forcing you in it. I can't seem to outwit or stop whatever it is that's already in motion."

But Law tossed his hands with yet another careless gesture.

_I saw you_, Sanji thought to himself. _Now...how do I keep you_? _Or, do you even belong to me_?

"Coincidence - all a strange coincidence, _but_," Law added with an upraised hand, "in the end it means nothing. Because you saw something tonight that unraveled you. I felt it."

"All vampires sensed a disturbance in the force?"

Law walked over to him, and Sanji unwillingly found himself trapped by the closet as the man settled his hands over his shoulders bracing against the wall. Unsettled by the weight of his stare, Sanji lowered his eyes to Law's collarbone.

"So...what did you see?" Law asked him quietly.

"I saw...one of my brother's disappearing like ashes into the wind," Sanji answered uneasily. "And my ghostly mother wailing over the true loss of one of her children."

"He crossed over?"

"He saw her. And...realized he was already dead." Sanji lifted his eyes. Law sniffed his hair, catching the scent of oil and radiator fluid in him. In the midst of his wet, messy curls were pieces of glass and shards of wood. "What if the gleam inside me _wasn't_dead, and that's making all the decisions…?"

"You don't glow."

"What else did you see that day...?" Sanji then asked tentatively.

Law turned away from him, and Sanji struggled to recall such an event on his own. But his mind felt scattered, thoughts exhausted by the events and the trauma he'd seen when truths were witnessed and spoken like a curse.

"When I remember," he murmured tightly, "I'm breaking up with you."

"That would mean we have a thing…_do_ we have a _thing_?" Before Sanji could answer that question, wearing an awkward expression, Law went on with, "Trauma like that remains a locked memory. Scarred over by expanding experiences. You would never remember it…if you weren't actually witness to it. And you weren't."

Sanji would figure that weird statement out later. "That's why you don't remember who _you_ really are."

Law turned to look at him once more.

"What happens when you do?" Sanji then asked softly.

"I don't know."

"Tell me about the waiter."

"I don't need to. He was you."

_So fucking confusing_, Sanji thought stressfully. Law wore an expression that told Sanji he was as equally as confused. _Both of them were fucked_, Sanji realized.

"And now he's gone, but you're in his place. Just a lingering impression of a man I..." Law trailed off. Not that he _couldn't_ continue, but because the reason was long lost in the myriad mixture of other memories that convinced him of relationships he had with others that weren't his at all.

Sanji couldn't read his mind. Only his expression. "How'd he die?"

Law didn't answer that. Not that he could – that particular memory seemed hard to recall. He saw many deaths in his life – but…not the present subject. It was as if any entire timeline had been refreshed, and the picture that had been there was gone; username unknown.

Sanji couldn't argue for his mother at that moment. That glimpse he caught of her expression as the car hit the post - it was enough to make his insides twist.

Law inhaled tersely before saying, "As for that day...all I remember most is a mother duck with her ducklings..."

Law looked at him, but Sanji had already set his expression carefully. His mother was _not_ a monster that Law claimed her to be - he might have lived longer, and perhaps his shadowed tale might have some truths...but Sora was _not the type of woman who killed_.

After a few moments, he crossed the space between them, Law watching him grumpily. "I'm exhausted. Shall we sleep?"

"You can sleep after all that?" Law asked softly as Sanji removed his boots and sat down with a tired sigh at the edge of the bed.

"Why should I allow myself to angst about it? Aren't you doing enough for the both of us?" Sanji looked at him as he removed his glasses. "Kinda makes it weird that I remind you of someone that isn't really me. Your false feelings allow me to understand that I _am_ being used, here."

"It's not something bad," he added, looking away to set his glasses on the nightstand, wearing a sad, soft frown that Law couldn't see. "It's not surprising. Just...something I can use to pass the time as well. Until I'm recognized by someone for who I am."

"Hey, I -!"

"Come to bed. I've got work in the morning, and you...you figure out what you need to do when it comes to my mother."

Law watched him settle into "his" side of the bed without changing out of his damp clothes. He stood there with a sense of chagrin, but he didn't understand the mixture of feelings that made his lungs feel full and his heart to skip. None of them were reassuring feelings.

"He is ashes in the wind - you're the raindrops in my eyes," he then said softly. "Those are two different things."

"Regardless...I'm not the one you want to see. A replacement…is still a replacement."

_I have been coming to you for two and a half years_! Law wanted to shout at him. But he held himself back because maybe Sanji was right. Law didn't know. These damned layers muddled _everything_. For the first time…Law realized how tired he was.

"Sanji. It wasn't just you that died that day. But it wasn't the first time your mother has tried to kill you all."

"_Stop saying shit like that_!"

"Ask her. Ask her _why_." Law swallowed tightly. "And maybe I'll find out answers that I need as well."

"I already have asked and no one has a truthful answer." Sanji then sat up to look at him, his face warped with bewilderment. He took in Law's frustrated expression, reading the other man's tense body language. "I'm giving you permission to take her to heaven. Why...should there be any more...?"

Law wasn't sure what to say without saying anything confusing. Anything more hurtful. It didn't help that things weren't clear for him, either. He was talking half-assed out of a mouth that didn't belong to him, armed with memories and voices that were never his. As frustrating as it was for Sanji, it was for him, as well.

Finally, Law said, "You're getting shit all over my pillow."

"This is MY bed. I can get shit on whatever I want," Sanji reminded him tersely.

Reminded of that fact, Law frowned. But he tugged his shirt off from the shoulders, and tossed it aside. As he climbed into bed, muttering about being on the wrong side, Sanji watched him warily.

"I'm breaking up with you after this is all over," he warned.

"Whatever makes you sleep better," Law said without worry. "But that's _my_ side of the bed. I can't sleep well when things are out of order."

"Are you listening to me? I am no one's replacement."

"If it didn't matter to you, you wouldn't threaten me like this. If I walk in here one day and see another man on my side of the bed, I won't hesitate to cause a very uncomfortable scene."

Sanji rolled his eyes as Law folded his hands behind his head, glaring at the ceiling.

"When I'm upset, my voice gets shrill, too."

Throwing himself down, Sanji's head sunk into his pillow. He glared out at the shadows casted on the wall. "Oh, shut up..."

"_Real_ shrill. I have long fingers. I can pull hair like nobody's business." Law rolled over onto his side to look over at the back of Sanji's head. Sanji could see the man's shadow in that position, and he scowled.

"Don't touch me," he warned. "I'm not in the mood."

"Why are you covered in car parts? I forgot to ask."

Sanji thought about what happened; Ichiji's realization blazing over his ruined features like a bloom of light, his form drifting beyond anyone's reach like darkened snow. Sora's hoarse, desperate scream as her fingers tried in vain to catch them. Ash blackened her softly glowing hands, coating them like black paint.

"_My baby_!" she shrilled so fiercely that her voice seemed to transition into something tonal, and her resounding sobs iced over Sanji's skin. "_My baby_ \- ! My baby's _ggoonnneeeee_!"

Sanji felt no warmth for his siblings - but seeing her reaction jarred something in him that resembled resentment. He didn't understand why. In the midst of his musing, he could still see that scene.

Especially when Sora looked back at him as cars eventually slowed to sharp stops to avoiding hitting the wreckage ahead of them. The rain fell fiercely, then, rattling off broken pieces like accusing punches. Sora caught her breath, looking up at Sanji with a slowly shifting expression. In the dim lights, Sanji couldn't tell what expression she was wearing. But it felt like he'd been slapped.

"I met a mechanic," he then answered softly. "Very nice man. Wants to be president, someday."

Law understood that Sanji lied to him. He chewed on the inside of his cheek before saying, "Good to hear. I have a car I need fixed. Maybe your friend can give me a discount."

"Probably. I'll have him look at your brakes, too."

"Sanji. I have been in your bed for two and half years..."

"Is that right?"

"And never had you skipped out on a shower beforehand. So...what can I do to fix what happened?"

Sanji thought about what happened in vivid detail. He couldn't tell Law this. It felt…_wrong_. Telling each other things…wasn't that breaking an already established boundary? They weren't exactly anything at all – just two men finding weird comfort in each other. His fingers clenched his pillow tightly.

"Help them," he said hollowly. "Because I'll only know the truth when they're gone."

Law nodded, grateful for an opportunity.

_In doing so_, Sanji thought, _she'll react, and he'll awaken. Best case she'll move on - worst? He will, too. But both necessary. No one should live a lonely life _forever.

Law leaned over to press a gentle kiss against hair that smelled of rain, oil and wood. In that moment, he saw again the woman floating in the pond, staring lifelessly up at the rain.


	8. F The Way We Were

**A/N: **i finished these few chapters on my phone. THREE CHAPTERS! :D i hope it all makes sense. thanks for reading and reviewing! if you catch anything, or a part is confusing, please let me know. my eyes and finger is *tired. XD

**8: Fuck The Way We Were**

* * *

In the morning, Law woke slowly. But he was warm, his arm was stiff and there was pressure at his chest and jaw. In his sleep sluggish mind, he thought he was having a heart attack.

_At my age_, he thought with a moment of panic. But as his eyes opened fully and awareness made its weight known, he realized it was only Sanji snuggled up to him. There were glass pieces on the pillow, oil and bright blue transmission fluid streaks over the cover. But he slept peacefully against Law, one hand curled ever so slightly against Law's face in a tender, soothing gesture. Law wondered what Sanji was dreaming to feel comfortable like this. He couldn't help but cover that warm hand with his, rubbing over the backs of scarred, dry fingers with his own rough fingertips.

_Ah, to be unconsciously treasured_, he thought with mild relief.

Despite his words and flimsy gestures, Sanji's feelings were unexpectedly truthful when he wasn't awake to hide them. Law figured it was easier to give affection when the other person wasn't present – less painful that way. In the spur of that moment, Law could recall other memories that could fit this one – only that person was not the man present. So they felt like they weren't his memories at all – it was easy to think they belonged to someone else. But one was not like the other – this one was pricklier, so the unconscious affection felt like an uncovered treasure.

Law kissed the palm that he manipulated from his face, rubbing the warmth of limp fingers until they twitched. Law was reluctant to wake him, choosing instead to bask in this relative peace. The early morning revealed gently warming clouds, a lazy sky promising more tears. The buildings had a certain orange glow to them that made it seem like a fire danced on the stress below; traffic was wakening slowly. The apartment was quiet and still, with only the hum of the refrigerator calling out. Wood popped and creaked when streaks of warmth invaded the home through the half-drawn curtains.

The first time Law spent the night was nearly ten months after meeting - he woke up feeling like he belonged here. He started leaving things behind, and Sanji seemed to accept his comings and goings, never questioning or inviting him openly - but he left food behind for Law to eat, and hung up the things Law eventually forgot.

And Law would return because this was as much as his place as any, because even when Sanji threatened to lock him out or refuse Law's persistent advances, he always made sure Law had his side of the bed.

Two and a half years later, after thinking Sanji was just a product of both deja vu and an easy cash flow, Law was _still_ coming back to him. For someone that lived as long as he did, experiencing lifetimes of events and feelings that weren't sometimes his own, finding comfort and familiarity within a length of time meant more than just an easy lay.

It was almost embarrassing that it took that one night to realize just how far in he'd fallen. Who knows how long he would've wandered about Sanji's space if Sanji hadn't experienced his own vague loss of reality. There was no way out of a hole Law had dug with his own damn hands.

He plucked pieces of wood from Sanji's hair, along with red shards of plastic. The obvious smells, fluid and pieces told Law that a vehicle was involved. Sanji didn't drive - Law figured he had never learned. _Ghosts love showing up unexpectedly_, Law thought as an obvious answer. Only one sibling died in a car crash.

_Ichiji_, he thought. _What happened to the eldest brother_? _And why go to him_?

Law had the vague thought Sanji went to his eldest brother to question their mother's motives. But why involve the siblings…?

The face of a woman looking up from water fluttered within his vision. In doing so, he could recall hauling a very pregnant heavy woman from the water. Under a rainy day, where he was stiff with grief and numbed thoughts; where he'd lost moments like these because another man had died. Why couldn't he remember before and after…? It wasn't as if it were some random layer that had experienced love - it was him. So why couldn't he recall that moment in Hell – was the pain so immense he allowed it to be taken from him, remashed with other layers' memories until he forgot?

Maybe so.

Catching hold of that memory with the woman, Law could see himself perform life saving gestures. He gave her various gleams – spilling, because while he knew the woman was large with life, he wasn't aware of how many. Maybe in that moment, he gave away all his pain as well – instilled it into her. It would explain some things, but that meant he'd given _himself_ away. Was that possible? Was it possible to give away his own ghost?

Sora was a manipulative woman that selfishly cherished her children – possibly to the point of killing them herself so that she could continue to do so. Law could protect Sanji by keeping him out of the final confrontation. He wondered if Sanji had stolen a moment with Zeff before Law took him – guess he would ask later.

Law also recalled Sanji going to Corazon for some answers. At that thought, he unleashed a weary sigh. He, too, would have to approach the ghost himself to see if he could learn more about a past Law himself couldn't remember.

He reached out and swiped as the phone began to sound its alarm. The phone quieted before it could complete a note, and Sanji continued to sleep uninterrupted. Law rolled out of bed, found his shirt and swiped Sanji's phone from the nightstand. He entered the lock code because he remembered seeing it applied months ago when Sanji thought Law was asleep.

In the privacy of the other room, he called Sanji's work place and gave a flimsy excuse. Then he called Penguin, teasing the man with a change of voice until Penguin threatened to unleash Eustess on the bar. Law told him the plan, then pulled on his boots.

He saw the journal on the table. Picking up the pen, he fiddled with it before opening it up and reading the last entry. Oh, despite Sanji's obvious fluster, the boy had it bad for Law as well. It made Law feel humbled and flustered reading these things, but through Sanji's handwriting, Law could always check on his other layers to see what the gleams were up to. It allowed him to feel a little grounded to read, as if reading about himself from a tabloid, and then taking in Sanji's added thoughts to the apparent mess Law presented himself.

He was once a man that plowed through a day with completed thoughts, with goals and objectives that made life possible, but now he was…a forgetful mess.

Since he was unaware of himself, forgetful and manic (_insane_), reading this journal helped. Admittedly, it was one of his favorite books.

He ripped a page out, and wrote explicit instructions for Sanji to follow when he woke up. He then set the alarm on his phone with the highest volume setting, placing it under the paper.

Law then left the apartment, shouldering his sword. He had a job to do.

: :

Later in the morning, he found Corazon splashed against a wall between two fluttering banners while museum visitors wandered through the brightly lit halls. All of them missed seeing the abstract shadow on the wall that moved like a solid being caught within a reflection of glass, the smell of cigarette smoke heavy in the air.

"Well, well, well, look at you," Corazon murmured, his voice clear and strong within the murmur of voices and background noise. "It's been such a long time."

Law wore a light frown as he looked up at the shadow mass that gave no hint that there was a shape of a man within his gleam. But old memory showed him a tired face, lightly colored with makeup and wispy blond hair that fringed his wrinkled eyes. Law could no longer feel the child that had bonded with the man react. But he knew Corazon because he still carried the man as one of his own memories. How could he lock out a ghost that made an impact on him (_on all his layers_)?

He had to keep the boundary between them – the last time Corazon made a connection with him had given Law injuries that left heavy bruising and a bewildering scar. Maybe it had been an accident, but that nearly "killed" his physical body. Which made Law wonder if Sora had caused her children's deaths upon accident.

"The Cheshire cat had given a certain mouse a head full of thoughts…that took him in a dangerous direction," Law replied slowly. "Those were redundant comments that took a turn that were unnecessary for him to partake."

"I was shocked to see him. And you're a dick for giving him something personal. What did you expect?"

Law rolled his eyes, giving an impatient huff because he really couldn't say anything.

"_You're_ the one who sent him to me," Corazon reminded him.

"It's….mother Vinsmoke."

"How am I supposed to help you fix it if neither of us knows why mother Vinsmoke is doing what she is…?"

"I targeted her living son because he could've fueled me and the crew for some time. I was then interested in the murders of the brood once I found out who he was, but somehow…it turned into something more than that. The more I investigated, the more personal it began to feel."

"You sent him to me," Corazon told him low, revealing himself from behind the banners as a monstrous shape of swirling black mass, "because you remembered something."

"Reincarnation," Law said over the order, "is not something I necessarily believe in. What I _do_remember is that I saved her. Gleams don't last for years upon years. They're either removed because they lost their usefulness, or simply faded away. I have to keep eating in order to refill and replace."

"Why is that man wearing the face of the one you introduced to me?"

Law thought about it, then said, "Apparently, I gave gleams to give life at that moment when I felt I needed …I don't understand how it came to this_._"

"You've never told me anything that I can use to remind you of this moment. Law," Corazon then said, "if you gave gleams in order to revive…then surely that gleam used that new life and ran the projection as that soul just as you do."

"Yes, but…the way I vaguely see it…he wasn't even born, yet."

"But surely it nourished him well enough to take on that soul's existence. A seed ripe for the growing."

Law worked his jaw from side to side as he nodded with agreement. "But it's _not_ reincarnation."

"Does he recall that particular gleam's persona?" Corazon then asked incredulously, "Do you even remember that man? How horrifying that you'd forget…"

Law gave a frown, looking down at the floor to hide his expression. After a moment, he said with low confidence, "In the amount of time that had passed between then and now, that particular gleam should have faded without any more lingering impressions…"

"Regardless…it was you back then that walked into this building with that man in tow, so it would make sense that you would've tried to keep him, no matter the circumstances, because you have the power to do so. So why would you, when everything is temporary to you? It's selfish."

It was painful to realize Law had no memory of this moment. He felt like he _should_ remember. He felt like it should be there to feel this apparent joy, but he felt nothing at all.

Law shrugged the confusion away. "Who knows? I've lived this long, with too many gleams taking over that I…am not clear who I am, anymore."

"Remove them. Become yourself again."

"But if I do…will I cease to exist because I forgot who I am?" Law murmured with heavy agitation.

He could sense Corazon's expression as the mass resettled back behind the banners. Law waited for the couple perusing the sights in the hall to pass them, both of them immersed in a flyer and the information present. They missed the large standing shadow, because it was something most of the living didn't see if they weren't looking too closely.

Corazon spoke, knowing he wouldn't be heard by them. "Aren't you tired of outliving everyone around you?"

_Funny. That cook said the same thing_, Law reflected. Once he had his space, he murmured, "Are you seeing me? Or are you seeing the other layers in front of me?"

"It's a lag in visual capacity," Corazon confessed. "You move, you have other limbs following that exact movement. You speak, you have other voices speaking with just enough space between for me to hear the crowd of people at your disposal. But the shit you say, sometimes, reminds me of who I am addressing directly."

"You sent him to me to be a dick," Corazon continued. "Either to hurt him, or to hurt yourself."

"Why would I do that…?"

"Because you were happy. But when he died…"

"_How_ did he die?"

"…You don't even remember that?" Corazon asked with rising horror, voice thinning.

Law shook his head, wearing a frustrated look.

Corazon waited a beat before saying, "Then it's not my place to remind you. But you sent him to me to hurt him, and to hurt yourself. And for _what reason_?"

Law stared at him with a frown, unsure of even that.

"To punish both of you? _For what_?"

"I…don't know why you're angry at me when I don't even know these answers for myself. I sent him to you originally so he could find answers for his…own situation that I cannot answer, so…in a way, I thought I was…helping."

Corazon sighed lightly. "He came to me asking about your age. It was interrupted by his mother, whom I don't even know, but there's no need to involve myself with a mess like that. He was wearing your clothes – I'd remember those ugly things, but he seemed like a scatterbrain himself. I know why you really sent him to me, Law. But it's not up to me to explain why if you yourself issued that order with the understanding it wasn't relayed back to you."

Law furrowed his brow with confusion upon hearing the resolution in Corazon's tone, so it frustrated him that he had no memory of some clandestine operation Sanji was conducting aside of his mother's mess. But he had confidence in Corazon's intentions – whatever they were.

"You trust that mouse?" he asked skeptically. "You just met him."

He felt like Corazon was giving him an exasperated look. "_You_ trust him, Law. Don't twist this into my hands."

_I guess that makes sense_, Law then thought reluctantly.

Corazon coughed, the smell of cigarette smoke heavy in the air. "It's time to remove layers, Law. Time to reconsider what you're doing, and who you're doing this for."

"I do that…I lose. I lose my meaning, I lose my abilities, I …"

"Are they really that important?"

"They are all I have."

"But what meaning does it give you? One day, you'll even outlive _him_. Again. Or are you just going to keep collecting the gleams he leaves behind to implant them into someone else, so you can find him again?"

"…This sounds like some sort of forced reincarnation…or a bad love story."

"It's a selfish torture, Law. You're punishing yourself and you're punishing him. That's what it is – these are the whims of a selfish child, and you really need to give thought to the actions you're forcing upon others," Corazon admonished him sternly.

Law wondered about this with a troubled frown. Was he unconsciously torturing the pair of them? Was Sanji even aware of this? In a way, it felt like cheating. Disrespect to both of them. But he was confused on whether he should feel that way. He gave Corazon a frustrated look, adding a light shrug.

The smell of cigarette smoke took the air with a heavy exhale. Law couldn't see it, but the smell was as strong as the air he breathed. Corazon said, "I see a man standing behind other people, talking to me, and yet…you're _still_ hiding behind others because you're frightened to see the consequences."

"Maybe I've been planning this," Law murmured thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "The crew mentions things that are preparation, and yet I recall no issuing of such orders."

"Who is the old man? He's new."

Law didn't answer. He wouldn't even be able to tell if he were using Zeff's mannerisms and thought processes, but if other ghosts could see him…could Sanji see him? He wore a discomforted expression.

"Was she with him the night he approached you?" Law then asked curiously.

"Yes."

Law waited for Corazon to expand on that, but the silence stretched on. He indicated for Corazon to give more than just a single word answer.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Any clues as to what she's planning?"

"She has a very bright light. I had the thought she is monitoring his actions," Corazon added. "It feels like she has no qualms keeping her brood close to her, so ask yourself - why are _you_ the threat…?"

Law couldn't even answer that himself. _He_ was the one to save her all those years ago – was she resentful of it? Why was she in that pond? "I don't know," he murmured. "I'd hoped you'd have the answers."

"You haven't told me everything, and yet I can't reveal anything without disrupting what you already have moving. Otherwise, I'd help."

Law remembered he hadn't come back to see Corazon in a very long time. He regretted not keeping up with that. "He gave me permission to take her, and his siblings. He believes…everyone should have a chance to move on."

Corazon bent low to look at him, and Law took a step back to give them wary space. "You think this only applies to his mother, Law?"

"He won't rid of me."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I know his feelings."

"But you gave a bright gleam to someone who wasn't born yet," Corazon reminded him. "How do you know that _they_ don't remember…?"

"Because I see only him…"

"_Do you_?"

Uncertain, Law frowned at him. The waiter he'd fallen for years ago was the opposite of Sanji. Even their physical appearances were much different – it was apparent Sanji hated himself, and the other radiated self-love and awareness. Maybe it was appearances only that Law was drawn to – like choosing a lover that had faint resemblances to the last.

"I'm sure," he murmured, but his tone wavered ever so slightly.

"The moment you gave up the gleams you had for another…what happened that day?"

"I don't know," Law replied with frustration. "_All_ I recall is that she was angry and upset that I'd saved her."

"And yet she lived, and died anyway. So now…perhaps, she's kept her brood close in a way that she finds satisfactory. And she remembers you as being the obstacle in her course." Corazon gave the impression of a tilted head. "Which you still are."

Law had to agree with a helpless shrug.

"Maybe. But he….he shouldn't be _him_. Not after all this time. Why only keep him alive?" Law then asked, before Corazon could say anything. "Why did she kill the others and not him?"

"Well, to me he's already a ghost. The living ignores him. That ghastly haircut, insecure demeanor and appearances tells me why they would."

Law thought about it, then agreed. "Last night, something happened between him and his older brother. Something rattled him. He won't say what."

"Are you in danger?"

"Maybe. Because I am the catalyst to whatever moment occurred." Law gave a rue smile. "So I expect her to do something, and yet…she can still take him from me."

"What a mess."

"_Aye_. What a mess…."

"Maybe it's time, Law," Corazon then said gently. "To stop living like this. Hasn't it been long enough?"

Law didn't answer, keeping his thoughts to himself. He looked up at the dark shadowy mass against the wall. "Isn't it time for you to move on?"

"I'm fine where I am. If she does succeed, come hang out with me."

Tongue in cheek, Law nodded to show that he heard, then turned and left the museum.

: :

Sanji read the note after he turned off his alarm. While he understood the instructions, he fiddled with the paper with fingers that held it too tightly. The apartment was quiet and bright, and it was something he hadn't seen in awhile, as he was usually working. The city was awake and moving, the windows rattling ever so slightly while a passing plane flew over. He thought about what he'd learned, and approached one of the windows to look out. He could see ghosts intermingling with the living, but was curious as to why they left him alone while he was up here.

_Ichiji was gone_, he reflected lightly. _And Zeff_…

Sanji could see Zeff's expressions in Law's face. That bastard hadn't even allowed Sanji time to see the old man one last time, but now Zeff was in Law. Which made…things complicated. He folded his arms over his thin chest, hair rumpled and loose around his face and neck. He would carry a conversation with Zeff through Law, and Sanji wondered if Law would know this.

'_I gave you life_,' Law had said last night. Sanji couldn't recall any traumatizing event in his life, other than the loss of his mother and siblings. He would definitely remember this man wandering into his life because Law left impressions with his good looks and offhand charm.

Sanji made himself coffee, then sat down on the couch. Sipping at it, he closed his eyes and struggled to think. Law had given him a gleam to live - the waiter's. So it made sense to Sanji that he was just a stand-in for someone Law had lost. _How romantic_, he thought with a sliver of sarcasm. _But not surprising_.

But _when_ did that happen? When did he become the stand-in?

"I could ask mother," Sanji then murmured aloud to himself. But he remembered the instructions he was given – Law had told him to _stay_. Looking out the window, Sanji surveyed the city. He would obey because he was asked – because Sanji thought that this was the only way he could be useful. He wondered if the other man had been as obedient, or if he defied the older man in ways that Law found unacceptable. Law was the type to enjoy challenges, but only in a way that amused or appeased him; obeying him to a point was one of the ways Sanji had thought welcomed Law back.

Really, Sanji was a frustratingly timid man, but his moments of speaking up or defying were rare and in-between. This was the way he'd gone through life so far, and really, in a way, Sanji was just trying to do whatever kept the older man close (_until he could convince him to let go and move on_)

Sanji asked himself if he wanted to be there when Law took Sora's gleam. He could avoid it. Just…let her go. As she was supposed to, long ago. But if he let that happen…he'd never know the answers that began to grow heavy with weight.

_Were they having an affair? What if I'm one of his kids_? Sanji thought with a frantic expression, chewing on his nails. Then he realized how silly that thought was, and had to snicker to himself. Cradling the cup within both hands, he thought about how Ichiji had disappeared. He sipped at his coffee. There were three more siblings that still lingered – but would Sora still love him after he helped them through?

_Ghosts need to move on_, he thought. _If that means forcing _him_ to do so, then…so be it_.

He set the cup down, warming his palms on his dirty pants, then stood up to go take a shower. When he re-emerged, he pulled on a v-neck sweater with black and white stripes over a long white t-shirt that dangled over his skinny legs. Those were in black, faded jeans with holes in the knees, and he stuffed his mismatched-socked feet into boots to combat any rain that might come along. He would allow his hair to air dry before pulling it into his ponytail. He picked up his coffee and sipped, waiting.

His apartment was locked – chain in place, knob tight. So when he heard the approach of heavy boots in the hall, he turned his attention from the window and looked at the door. Sure enough, the chain slid out of place and the lock on the knob twisted. His coffee spilled out of his gaping mouth because this wasn't something he usually saw every day. Law walked in with a pensive expression, shutting the door softly behind him. When he saw Sanji sitting on the couch, he noticeably jolted in surprise.

Sanji hurled his coffee cup at him, shouting, "You don't get to be scared when I just saw how you break into my shitty apartment, you shitty piece of shit!"

"Why are you _yelling_ at me?" Law exclaimed, having ducked the flying cup of coffee. It splashed the door, the mug shattering on the floor, causing him a double take.

"_Because_! That's an unusual sight!"

"You see ghosts yourself, how is that _unusual_?" Law snarled back at him. But he tossed off his sword, setting it on the chair while Sanji huffed. Law crossed the space between them, flopping onto the couch with his head on the other man's leg. Sanji considered smothering him with one of his throw pillows, but he was distracted by the sharp scent of his cologne, causing him a frustrated flush.

The man had chosen an outfit eerily similar to his – but over his white shirt was a black fuzzy sweater that looked ridiculous on a man like him (_from the juniors' section_?), and scruffy sneakers without laces. His earrings were bright against his damp blue-black hair.

"This is the plan…"

"Oh? We're in each other's plans, now?" Sanji muttered, trying not to show his feelings at that moment. But he used a throw pillow to give Law's head some cushioning.

Folding his hands over his chest, Law wiggled the glasses he was wearing over his nose. "Here is the timeline," he said, ignoring Sanji's disgruntled tone, "years ago, an established love of my life died – mysteriously, I have no memory of it – and in the middle of wallowing in my grief back then, I suppose it was years later, I took his gleam – "

"How _heartless_ are you to take the soul of someone you loved, and then _forget_ about it?" Sanji asked, mystified. _He would be forgotten in moments_, he fretted with some breathtaking horror.

"No, listen, we're moving on. That receipt was the first time I met him. And you were born…five, seven years later?"

Sanji was caught in the seemingly careless way love was discarded. But with the way Law switched feeling and conversation, it wasn't something he was that surprised of. "_Jesus_…"

"So, yes, as a monster, I took his gleam because why should he continue wandering this earth as a ghost - ?"

_Oh, thank God, you have _some_ form of a heart_… Sanji thought with heavy sarcasm.

"And while I had it…I ran into your mother." Law paused, furrowing his brow as Sanji looked down at him crossly, arms folded over his chest in an unconscious gesture of protection, "And if you can't remember that time, it's because you weren't even born, yet. For some reason, she was…well, she _succeeded_, she drowned herself in that pond."

Sanji tilted his head with concern. "With all of us?"

"Yeah. And…I pulled her out." Law lifted his arms to mimic the movement, causing Sanji to tilt away to avoid being hit with those gesturing hands, "I hauled her out, along with a belly full of children. I gave her what gleams I had just to revive her and them. You."

Sanji wasn't sure what to say, hearing the memory of someone that had been there. Reluctant to think that his mother was capable of these things. He looked away with discomfort, Law reaching up to redirect his face to look back at him.

"Here's where it gets messy. One of those gleams was _his_. And…you came along. But you're _not_ him," Law stated firmly, fingers lightly squishing Sanji's face so that the man wouldn't look away again, "You might resemble him at first glance, but you're _not_him."

Sanji wore a face that suggested he didn't know what to say or feel. But he pulled his head back from Law's playful fingers.

"And maybe I did, unconsciously, think that I had him back when I first saw you, but these memories of mine…they're never really mine, so nothing seems to stick for long, not even the things that should," Law said with frustration. He lowered his hands back to his chest. "And it never occurred to me that you could be him. I saw you as easy money, to be honest."

"Thank you for your honesty. It's appreciated," Sanji said sarcastically, because how could anyone feel anything other than that?

"Then when you accused me of being a ghost, I…realized I'd been coming to you for two and a half years. Of course, hearing about all this isn't anything that anyone would take as flattering, or reassuring," Law continued with a troubled frown. "So I'd understand if you started to hate me. But…all I ask is that you don't."

"I don't think I can hate you," Sanji said quietly, reaching up to smooth at the troubled furrow upon his own brow, "but it's a complicated history that…does nothing to…make me feel…confident?"

"Now that we're here, the most pertinent thing in this situation is that it all comes back to your mother. Has she had a history of mental illness?"

Sanji slowly shook his head, puzzled at the question. Every memory he had of his mother when she was alive revealed a bright, cheerful woman that made sacrifices for her children's wellbeing and happiness. He couldn't even recall a fight between parents. But Judge always seemed to be absent from these memories. Too busy working, or out on some company travel. Despite himself, his hands fell to the older man's hair, lightly smoothing the messy strands away from a concentrative forehead.

"But it explains why she continues to keep her children close," Law murmured. His eyes closed at the soothing gesture at his hairline.

He felt he could take a nap in this position; in this quiet, seemingly unmoving apartment were the outside seemed to peek through soft colored curtains and alit the worn floor. Dust motes rose and fell in the sunlight's grasp, appearing and disappearing with bright flecks of reflective light. He could hear the empty gurgle of Sanji's constantly hungry stomach, could hear his quiet breathing above that. The smell of his freshly showered body with gentle smelling clothes alerted Law that Sanji had cleaned himself; the gentle sweep of fingertips through his hair soothed things in him that made him feel relaxed enough to forget what he was saying.

_A pet_, Sanji thought with finality, watching the older man lull himself to sleep while he pet his hair. He was aware that Law had trailed off – but this was the older man's behavior. Sanji was used to it. He could either get the information later, or let it slide, depending on the man's mood. He looked out the window, feeling the slight twitch of Law's arms as the older man prepared to sleep.

Law jerked his eyes open once he realized that he actually _could_ fall asleep.

He spoke like the moment hadn't even happened, starting Sanji in mid-stroke. "So…what happened last night? Why were you in the beginning stages of a Transformer cosplay?"

"Ichiji went into the light. Mother was upset. But…" Sanji paused, because he wondered if he should speak of her expressions. The dead look she must've given him when the car was headed towards him. Was it satisfaction, or grief? The headlights were too bright for him to know. His fingertips traced over the thin, seemingly always angry eyebrows slashed over sleepless eyes.

Law sat up, looking at him intently when Sanji paused in mid-word. Sanji cleared his throat and said, "She was upset that he was gone. But…in the end, it was a good thing. He should be able to move on. As they all should. As _you_ should."

"Don't kill me off just yet."

"If I should die," Sanji stated slowly, Law interrupting with, "Not going to happen."

"_If I should_ – if I have a gleam, don't take it. Let me go. I do not want to be wandering around here, repeating the last events of my life on some shitty street, or as a part of you. Promise me."

After a few moments, Law nodded once, his eyes drifting away with discomfort. They returned once more to Sanji's expression with resolve. "But you won't."

"_I'm breaking up with you_."

"Look, she tried to kill you once – now that one of her ducklings is permanently gone, what makes you think she won't follow through with the others, and end it with you? She's a mother that cannot let go of her children."

Sanji clasped his hands together with a thoughtful expression. It was difficult thinking of his mother as a murderer.

"How set are you on this? Will I expect any interference from you?"

"I have no hesitations. Just lingering doubt about her thoughts…yes, it's true my mother loved us all unconditionally, but…this story you told me of her trying to end it before it could begin…that is something I don't…understand."

"She was quite angry at me for saving her," Law recalled lightly. "So once she realized you were seeing me, well…it explains her mood. She probably thinks I'm interfering once more."

Sanji thought of his mother's clinginess, then of last night's encounter. "Possibly," he murmured. "But it's hard to think that she would do so."

"Gleams don't last forever," Law said slowly. "And while I can't remember too much of the one that you ended up with…you're not the same."

"We'll sort that out later. Weird vampire shit."

With a disgruntled expression, Law felt for his canines for any unusual sharpness.

"And anyway, it's understood that we've sought each other out for…complicated and uncomplicated things," Sanji said tersely, crossing his arms again. "This isn't some stupid _Lakehouse_ bullshit – "

"What's that?"

"…but I suppose it explains how comfortable you are with me," Sanji continued with a frown. He reached out to gently clear away a speck of white shaving cream from Law's neck, then wiped his fingers on the man's shirt. "There was a familiarity there that you showed around me that always puzzled me, but…now it makes sense."

"When you say that gleams don't last long, how is it that you keep them in a box?" he then asked before Law could respond.

"Well…ghosts are attached to things they loved while they were alive…and we keep those items in a box in order to…preserve them. But even those don't last. I think the longest we kept one was twenty years."

Sanji gave him a dirty look, something that Law found similar to a scolding. "I was _nineteen_ when we met, you fucking asshole."

"But you weren't him. Not in any way. Maybe appearance, slightly, but…not him." With a pout, Law muttered, "He'd never throw stuff at me, or call me names. Or force me into uncomfortable situations, like denying me my side of the bed. And he was always happy, and you're…not."

Sanji moved to speak when Law interrupted him with, "The point of this entire conversation was to understand the lines. Now that we know the lines, it's understood between us both that your mother intends on keeping her children together. So, let's get it out there – your mother plans to keep you with the rest of the brood. Playing dumb at this point is not solving anything. Ghosts can harm the living – this is undeniable. Whether she killed them out of accident or intention – only she knows the answer to that. When I tell you I will handle this by myself and you're to stay back – that's something I want you to understand. I don't want you being felled by her hands. Can you deny this?"

Sanji was uncertain as to answer this aloud, but he knew it was there. He saw her expression flash through his vision.

"Nothing happens in your apartment," Law continued. With a concentrative expression, Law reached out to run a fingertip over the top of Sanji's upper lip to wipe away traces of toothpaste. "Right? There are no ghosts here."

"Just you. And…I?" Sanji asked with uncertainty, looking all the things he was now unsure of.

"Does she follow you home?"

"I hope to God, not. You're _loud_."

Law gave a shrug, but found himself grinning as he rose from the couch. "Not all of my layers finds it hard to suppress themselves. Hey, think of it this way – you've been fucking _all_ of them. That experience is something similar to actual notches on the bedpost."

"I'm going to ask you to remove Zeff, and send him on his way before I touch you again. When you make certain expressions, he's looking right at me. _Freak_."

Law wondered if he should point out that Sanji unconsciously referenced keeping him despite his threats. But it would delay the current thread of conversation, and he was easily distracted.

"The state of your mother last night?"

Sanji was pretty sure he'd answered this many times before, but he had the patience. "Um….slightly unhinged. Upset. Ichiji faded away in front of her."

"And that was because he recognized he was dead."

"Correct."

"Then I can approach him."

"Without taking his goddamn soul, goddamn it. I'm not going to be looking into the face of my fucking brother when we're fucking."

Law held his hands up in an appeasing gesture, amused smile in place. "But I need you in a safe place while I conduct my work."

"I'm no damsel in distress, I don't need to be hiding out in a high tower while you slay dragons." Sanji then thought about it, rubbing at his chin. "While I want to know my mother's reasons…I don't think I can take her anger."

"Then stay here."

"Eventually, you have to go, too."

Law exploded without hesitation. "You're always trying to get rid of me. You can't get rid of me, only _I_decide when I'm fucking ready!"

Sanji rose from the couch, brushing off his pants. At Law's seething expression, he stood up on his tiptoes to brush a kiss on his cheek. He then walked off to go clean the mess he'd made with the thrown mug. Law sullenly glared at the couch for a few moments, then gathered his things.

"Of course," Sanji then murmured, picking up the broken pieces, "considering the situation, it's probably not even me in danger at all. It's you."

"I've got enough experience and wit to keep my distance."

Sanji turned to look at Law, giving him a slight shake of his head. "My mother manipulated my father for years, using a strategic method of it that prevented him from seeing exactly where the money was going until he had no choice but to sign the dotted line. Your guard is loose because you're too overconfident with the limited information you have now. It may not even be _me_ she's maneuvering into the corner."

"None of these things so far suggest _I'm_ the one falling into a corner," Law scoffed. Sanji frowned at him – he wanted to point out the obvious, but the explicit instructions on the piece of journal paper he'd read earlier was clear.

"You interrupted her once. _Think_ about it, stupid."

Law frowned at him, then felt his brow furrow suddenly. "I need the abilities. Just in case lady Vinsmoke is craftier than she appears."

"How long will you keep needing these abilities? It sounds to me like an addict giving flimsy excuses to keep his addiction."

Law suddenly held up a finger. "Ah, ah. Sounds like you're gathering intel. The less you know, the better you feel."

"I wonder," Sanji then murmured thoughtfully, sitting on his knees aside the mess, "if I should experiment a little with the receipt. Or did that mean as much to him as it did to you?"

Law frowned at him with rising agitation.

"I just want the people I love to rest peacefully," Sanji continued, cradling the pieces of the broken mug in one hand. "And maybe my agenda rides on that as well. Considering how long you've lived, and how scattered you are – how do you know she and I aren't in cahoots?"

"Because you used _cahoots_ seriously. As a _word_. You're not plotting against me," Law said reassuringly, opening the door with a wild swing before shutting it gently behind him, scoffing at the casual usage of the phrase as he walked down the hall. He then paused in place, something occurring to him very suddenly.

The door slammed open before he could move, and Sanji yelled out at him, "I meant _my family_, I love my family, don't take anything else out of context!"

He then slammed the door shut, the walls vibrating noisily while Law lifted his eyebrows with doubt. But he couldn't deny the slight pep in his step, the smile that burned at his lips to cause them to tilt.

_Ah, to be unconsciously treasured_, he thought cheerfully as he made his way to the elevator, hands in his pockets.

The door opened and slammed shut behind him, and he looked back to see Sanji pulling on his rain jacket, dropping his keys and phone with flustered actions. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going with you," Sanji decided, picking up his things and hurrying forward to join him at the elevator. "We're going to do this together. She's _my_mother."

"I don't want you going there. My friends are trying to kill me, too, and they'll probably do it right in front of you, and I'm going to be humiliated," Law complained childishly, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"Because I'm willing to bet _his_ box is down there, and I want to see it."

Lave glared at him with disgust.

"Even if we don't find anything spectacular, excuse us, miss," Sanji then said to the woman that stood against the door, leaking running blood from her neck, her scattered purse contents rolling about the floor. He forcefully maneuvered Law to the other side of him so he could avoid touching her – forgetting that Law would remain untouched by a woman only Sanji could see as a solid being. Law allowed himself to be manipulated without saying anything, feeling an amused tilt of his mouth rising. "I'm sure you'll find something new and different that you forgot about. And we can both settle our demons."

Law gave a bewildered look around the empty elevator, not seeing the woman that stared at them blankly, clutching groceries that never wilted. "You can really see them all, huh?"

"Shouldn't this convince you of my intentions?"

"You're trying to murder me, goddamn it! I'm suspicious of everything!" Law exploded with arms up and an angry tint to his face, accent fading into something that Sanji couldn't identify. "Everyone's tryin' to fucking kill me!"

"It's not murder," the woman murmured, drawing Sanji's attention, "if you know it's coming."

"If she's talking shit, I'll…vaporize her," Law murmured, noticing Sanji's diverted attention.

"She said you smell nice," Sanji lied to him smoothly.

"Sin, sin, it's a sin, you're committing a sin! I know what you two do! I've watched it happen!"

Sanji cleared his throat noisily, trying to ignore her accusations as he stood in close to the other man, who looked around them with bewilderment. "It's not murder," he assured Law, "if you know it's coming. It's…absolution."

"Why are you so keen on getting rid of me?"

"You might even make for a very….nice old man."

"I'm going to break up with you," Law decided, watching the numbers light up as they neared the ground floor. "I can't stand these mind games, anymore."

"A very _nice_ vampire."

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

"SIN! BOTH OF YOU ARE SINNING! _GO TO HELL_!" the older woman shouted at them, blood spurting with the effort. "It's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve!"

Sanji struggled to ignore her hateful remarks, biting the inside of his cheek and refusing to look at her. Law noticed his discomfort, but because he couldn't hear a thing, he was unsure of how to administer any comfort.

"Well, no wonder she's dead, eh?" Law then said clumsily, causing Sanji to cringe, but trailed after Law as the doors opened to let them out. He still ended up making sure there was no blood on his clothes.

"Let's stop by a coffee shop that I know," he then suggested as they made their way through the lobby. "Where we stopped before."

"So you can talk to that snitch?" Law asked, shivering once they stepped out into the chilly air. The smell of rain was heavy, and it caused him to look up with irritation to judge just how long they had before the city was drenched once more. Before he could do anything, Sanji was tugging the zipper into place and zipping him up. "Sanji, I appreciate the efforts, but I cannot get sick."

"If you can't remember shit, perhaps _she_ can once she sees you."

"Oh…nice. She did know a lot of shit that upset me. I feel like getting pissed off."

As they walked down the sidewalk, Sanji noticed Sora following a distance behind them, wearing a grim expression as she flitted in and out of passing pedestrians. He couldn't identify her expression, which troubled him.


	9. Wait

**9: Wait**

* * *

"You've upset your mother, I see," Robin said as Law stressed the accuracy of his order to the bored looking waiter that stood aside of their table. Amid the demand for medium rare meat and no vegetables, Sanji sucked his lips between his teeth to wait for their privacy as Robin rested her chin upon her palm, smiling at him. "Quite honestly, it's probably a rule that sons should do so."

"This is an…entirely different situation," Sanji said low, trying to keep his lip movements at a minimum. Once the waiter left, Law glanced at him, then across their table. He couldn't see Robin as she sat in the booth with them, her skirts taking up the seat. But he lit up, pulling his jacket open and withdrawing a couple of earbuds. He handed them to Sanji.

"Wear them, and talk all you want," he advised, Sanji looking surprised at the concept. Law looked at him with impatience. "Has this never crossed your mind? Even decades old vampires like me know this trick."

Flushed with embarrassment, Sanji slipped them in. His face then dropped with utter dismay as the content became present within the devices, Law looking at him with a smirk before withdrawing his phone and disconnecting the Bluetooth. Before he put the phone down, Sanji saw that the man had recorded one of their bedtime sessions, and his face reddened with immense humiliation once he saw himself making some pretty intense expressions, their combined moans and curses filling his ears.

"I needed an Uber back to your place, and some entertainment for the uncomfortably long drive…"

"How do you live with yourself?" Sanji hissed at him, slapping at his phone and shaking it before Law took it back from him and locked it down. "_When did you record this_…?"

"It got me through those two months you kicked me out of your life. Anyway, talk aloud so I can hear what's happening," Law then ordered, pouring himself a glass of cold water. Sanji looked to Robin with horror, but the woman had no idea what was happening. He swallowed hard, struggling to fan his face with one moving hand.

"Apparently, he rescued my mother and my brothers one day," Sanji continued to Robin, his voice shaking ever so slightly before he finally composed himself. "But he has no real memory of before or after."

"I thought this was common knowledge," Robin replied. "Your mother did try. She was convinced no one could love her children more. Your sister was found minutes earlier, which was why no one had seen her rescue. They were focused on reviving her. Thus…her later developments into alcoholism, Sanji. I'm sorry."

After absorbing her answer, Sanji had to accept that this was a real event. Robin had no reason to lie to him, or play games. But to actually accept that it had happened…it now made it easier to think that Sora was capable of these things. "Reiju said nothing about this…"

"And why should she?" Robin asked. "It haunted her until the day she passed. The knowledge of your mother drowning all of you…it's something no one can forget."

"Why have you never brought this up?"

"Why should it be my place? Family secrets should stay within a family. I apologize for knowing."

Sanji exhaled heavily, then told Law, "She saw it."

"Including my involvement?" Law asked curiously.

"All I saw was a helpful man pulling a pregnant woman from the pond," Robin answered. "I'd seen too much death before. I had no mind or gain to see anything more. Unfortunately, whatever you're looking for from me, you probably won't find anything useful."

"She didn't see anything after you pulling her out. She walked away."

"Those of us who know what to look for, and how to see it, probably don't realize what had been seen until it was too late," Robin then mentioned. "So keep asking the right questions – maybe you'll find the answer you'll looking for."

"Was I with anyone?" Law asked curiously.

"No. He was alone."

Sanji relayed this briefly.

"What was I wearing?"

"A black turtleneck, trousers, some unfair platform shoes."

Sanji paused in relaying this, furrowing his brow as he gave Law a questionable look. "Platform shoes?"

"I'm an asshole," Law replied, lighting up with mirth. Then he paused, the memory of that particular outfit coming back to mind. "It wasn't my outfit."

The memory of that day broadened ever so slightly to include his decision to walk into the park. He remembered that the rain was warm, but the sky was dark for the hour. People were hurrying for cover, carrying newspapers and umbrellas. His hands were in his pockets – the lining left marks on the back of his hands. He remembered looking at them as he left the sidewalk, taking the dirt road towards the bridge that would allow him to cross the pond. Thunder rumbled softly in the distance, and he registered cries of upset and shouts – but he passed them off as passerby that were trying to run for cover. His mind was buzzing with numb thoughts and static.

He felt alone and empty – but at the same time, unflinchingly suffocated by a weight that made him feel like he wasn't himself.

It was a struggle to pull out of that memory. But Law blinked his vision into focus, the restaurant coming back to him suddenly. As he reset, Robin looked at Sanji sternly.

"And you're certain to get involved with this man?" she asked low. "Knowing that he could reveal his true motives at the last second?"

Sanji nodded resolutely, not answering aloud. But his eyes pleaded for her understanding, something that made her sigh shortly, sitting up with some impatience.

"Ya think that was the end of it, but it weren't," Law muttered, Sanji looking at him with alarm. Law slowly removed the glasses from his face, setting them aside. "Got me walking blind in that rain, wearing such frilly clothing."

_That's it! Use the other layers to describe what his true self can't! They're seeing the same thing as he is_, Sanji thought with realization. He asked quickly, "What kind of food do you smell?"

In that memory, Law inhaled deeply. "Just rain and pavement. Cigarettes. Ain't that much of a smell out. Not with that rain."

"Where was the nearest restaurant?"

Law looked behind him, squinting. "Looks like an all ya can diner. Got some yuppies sittin' round in there. There on Fifth and Corner."

"I know that place," Robin said quickly. "It's now a skating rink and coffee café. Near the pond, behind the museum."

"Were you going to see Corazon?" Sanji then asked him.

Law glanced at him with irritation – wearing Zeff's grumpy expression. "Ain't talkin' to that guy in this state."

"What's in your pocket?"

"The receipt. From the restaurant. Where I first met him. That's…that's where I scooped him up." Law looked out into the distance as Robin shifted in her seat. Essentially, the man across from her was Law, but there were so many others speaking at the same time. Seeing the same things, experiencing what he described – but in a separate state of mind. Sanji was calling out to the older man that Robin could see ever so slightly amidst the layering. _He_ was the one answering with Law's voice, which had taken on a lower, gruffer tone.

_He'd be so useful_, Robin thought with regret, _if he weren't so misleading_.

"The restaurant. Near Sixth and Cranberry."

"That particular place was the site of a mob shooting in that year," Robin reported with interest. "Seven dead. A deal gone wrong."

"Yes," Law confirmed, nodding as he folded his arms over his chest. Sanji had to cringe because Zeff often did the very same thing when he was deep in thought. "He got himself shot lunging over to protect a couple of customers. I got the news of it later that day, when I couldn't reach him."

"Who were the customers?" Robin asked, Sanji numbly repeating it.

Law removed his glasses to rub at his eyes. "Lady Vinsmoke and her husband. The husband was in the way – he leaned in at the last second to use him as cover, so it made him even more heroic, to have saved both of them rather than just her."

Sanji felt ill but unsurprised at his father's actions, hand to his stomach as it churned.

Law cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses back into place. "So I got a bit of the memory back. He would do that sort of thing. Selfish. Never thinking of people he left behind. After I summoned up the courage, I went back to retrieve him, because the thought of him lingering in a place like that made me feel some type of way. I remember feeling how wrong it was to do it, but I eventually gave him to one of the brood she had in her belly. You. Funny how that works out. I was rewarded for my good deeds."

Sanji stared at him in silence while Robin said, "Now that you mention it, she left the restaurant in tears. That sort of calamity rings loudest in the streets. We can hear their cries for miles. I remember seeing her cry unconsolably while being loaded into a nearby ambulance while responders cleared the scene."

Robin then looked to Sanji with uncertainty. "While understandably upset to have survived such horrendous conditions, she kept accusing her husband of not being the one to 'save her'."

Sanji didn't repeat that for Law to hear. He absorbed the words of a ghost, feeling an uncomfortable roiling in his stomach. He ended up shrugging ever so slightly. There was something at the base of his thoughts that tried to edge in, but he refused it entry because it sounded so…unlike…Sora.

_She's not a murderer_! he thought in vain.

"How should I feel about this?" Law wondered, Sanji then looking to Robin for advice.

"First off, Sanji," Robin advised gently, "your mother was upset that her husband wasn't the one killed. Keep that in mind."

"You're bringing up a weird accusation," Sanji replied faintly, barely having the breath to do so.

"I'm a neutral subject in this matter. Then she tried killing all of you, along with herself. And the current deaths of your siblings – her continued clinginess…you _must_ open your eyes."

"They're open," Sanji mumbled.

"Perhaps your father was abusive, and she saw no way out."

"I don't know…"

"But now, she's focused on him as well," Robin then said, looking at Law. "Because _he_ pulled her out. So, what is the real question, here?"

"I just can't believe this kind of thing. She _can't_ be capable of that," Sanji replied vaguely. Law looked away from him to study the plate set down in front of him, the waiter gruffly refilling his coffee. "It should be obvious that we wanted to live…"

"Not only are you tasked with one task, you have another," Robin pointed out, smiling at him. He furrowed his brow, and shook his head ever so slightly to indicate that this should not come up. "He can't hear me."

"I know, just…I need to be careful of what I say," Sanji said carefully. "Because I'll start to believe that my mother's a monster."

"But you at least know what to do."

"What is she saying? Is she plotting my death?" Law asked him with an elbow to his arm, poking on his meat to see how much juices leaked out of it.

"Yes, actually," Sanji answered impatiently. Sanji wasn't sure what face to make or what to say in response to Robin's words. He glanced at the other man as he shoveled food into his mouth, complaining in between bites about the texture and cooking methods used to create his dish.

"She doesn't want to be alone," Robin reminded him. "I'm sure it was mentioned, but no one can love you more than she can. And she already feels threatened."

After a few moments, Sanji glanced at Law from the corner of his eye.

Robin placed her hands on the table. "So, what are you going to do? Is there really a need to press for answers on a woman's troubled insecurities?"

"I just want her to explain to me, to help me understand some things," Sanji then murmured, glancing at Law and waiting for the man to look up from his plate. "To allow her to feel that…it's going to be okay."

"And if she doesn't want to hear it?"

He shrugged listlessly. "Then it'll remain unsaid."

"And him?"

Sanji sighed noisily. "Him, too."

"Stop plotting my death, I'm already dead!" Law snapped at him.

"I guess one would only see when the rest of them are gone," Robin said with a concerned tilt of her head. "Only you could do it, I suppose."

"I guess we have some answers," Sanji said, trailing off as he looked at Law with question.

The older man shrugged a shoulder. "I mean, that point of my life is long gone. Revisiting it does nothing for me, but help me remember that I'd once loved someone. There have been too many years for me to feel any differently now."

Sanji wasn't sure what to say about that, but he wore a twisted frown. Robin looked at Law with disapproval, but she couldn't speak up. Catching her expression, Sanji told her gently, "It's _fine_. Everything will be fine."

"It's hard for me to feel anything, Sanji," Robin murmured. "But I would miss your talks. So I understand his lack of empathy or feeling. It's up to you what to do with it. Whatever impact you think you're making…in this long range of life, it may only be something he'll remember later, or something that was nothing at all."

He nodded to indicate he heard her. Hands on the table, he scooted slightly from it. "Well then. Are we done here?"

"I'm still eating this slop they're charging me twenty-one dollars for, hold ya damn horses," Law mumbled, slurping at his coffee. Sanji cringed again, seeing Zeff's mannerisms at that moment. "Ain't eating here again, I tell ya."

"We're going to the bar," Sanji decided, looking out the window of the restaurant. Sora was sitting outside, atop of the back of a bus bench. Watching him with an expression that revealed nothing. Robin turned her head to look, her expression turning to pity. He added with a troubled murmur, "to put Zeff back."

Law paused in mid-bite, stark realization crossing his face as he sat up straight. He allowed the half-chewed piece of meat to fall back to his plate, looking at Sanji with horror before wiping his mouth with the napkin.

: :

"Nice outfit," Shachi said snidely as he and Penguin watched Law lead the way into the bar. "Shows off all them sexy legs."

"Did you really get that thing from the girls' section?" Penguin asked Law with mystification as he reached out and fingered the fuzzy sweater. Sanji cautiously watched the silent ghosts around them stare at him, the bar almost empty except for the men that drank lazily and stared blankly at the cherished sights around them. "Because that is _gross_. Men should not be wearing that type of shit."

"You wanna be a furry so bad," Shachi added with pity.

Law gave them both wounded looks before looking back at Sanji. "We're on a mission, so your plan on murdering me by attacking my vanity is unnecessary right now. Open up the basement. Let him in there."

Both men straightened up with a start, staring at him with confused expressions. Law noticed that none of them even glanced Sanji's way, or acknowledged that he was there.

"_Why_?" Penguin asked cautiously.

"Weren't you the one telling us not to?"

"This is different," Law explained, leaning up against the bar and having to bump Penguin aside to do so. Penguin steadied himself with a snarl, Law patting him as a way of placation. He signaled at a bottle while Penguin resettled against the bar. Jean Bart attended to the task with a lifted eyebrow. "I won't know where it's going until he finds what he's looking for."

Sanji gave him an impatient look, hands tucked into his pants pockets. _I have an idea of what I'm looking for, but can I trust these guys_? he thought to himself, giving the three men a skeptical look.

"We're not doing it," Penguin decided, crossing his arms stubbornly as Law sipped at his drink. He then reached out to Sanji, drawing him over to his side with a companionable pat at his hip to signal that he stand next to him. Sanji stiffened, noticing the two men focusing on Law with exasperated and disgusted expressions. Jean Bart looked at him with one eyebrow raised, then ever so slightly tilted his head to send Sanji's attention away from the bar, to a door that warned trespassers that they would be shot.

"Strict orders from the top," Shachi added, leaning up against the bar with his elbows supporting him. "Nobody goes in there but us. _Those_ were the orders."

Finishing his drink in one gulp, Law set the glass aside, looking from one to the other. "_I'm_ the one that gave the order?"

"Duh, Mr Fuzzy Sweater."

Penguin's mouth turned down into an expression of disgust. "That sweater is so _dumb_…"

"How are you _wearing_ that with such confidence?" Shachi exclaimed.

"You think the girls are really just like…falling all over themselves seeing you in it? You're insane."

Law looked down at his sweater, touching the fuzzy material with one hand before looking at the pair. "This is clearly harassment."

"We're just buds trying to update you. We've seen you wear some scummy shit, but this sweater…it hurts me. Deep inside. Knowing we're friends, and you're wearing that."

Penguin shook his head with disgust as Jean Bart leaned against the bar with both hands, capturing the trio's attention. "Another drink, lads?" he asked. "How about a bottle from below the bar?"

The three of them sat hastily as Jean Bart served them, pouring the amber liquid into chilled beer mugs.

: :

Sanji shut the basement door behind him, careful to prevent any noise. The air was slightly chilled, temperature controlled. This area was much cleaner than the office above – the shelves were arranged by years, and it felt as if he were walking into a tomb. It was eerily quiet, without any moving air that he felt a moment of claustrophobia. He noticed that the tartan-scarf wearing ghost's box was sitting on the floor – caught underneath one shelf near a welded box that had cancelled signs on them.

Venturing towards it, Sanji picked it up and set it back within the open welded box with a gentle action. Then he looked around himself, noticing that every metal box had a clearly labeled name and year to them. There were empty areas where a box was missing, but the labels were still there.

From appearances, it seemed to Sanji that Law had at least twenty different layers to him. After some wandering, he found Zeff's box. He retrieved that, taking the keys Law had taken from Penguin to find one that fit. It appeared that there was only one key to unlock every box – with a shrug, he opened it, revealing Zeff's favorite knife sharpener. Sanji remembered it fondly, because he'd seen Zeff use it, importing parts from across the ocean just to keep it.

The moment he touched it, the ghost appeared next to him, giving a startled look around himself. Sanji looked up at him with relief, holding the sharpener with both hands.

"Where am I?" Zeff asked slowly, voice slightly murky as his appearance glowed with a light grey that nearly rendered him in black and white static; similar to viewing him through the screen of an old television set.

"In someone's basement," Sanji replied, aware of how loudly his voice carried in this suffocating room.

Zeff narrowed his eyes. "That idiot killed me."

"You were already dead," Sanji reminded him gently. "Now it's time to move on."

Zeff looked down at him with gruff impatience. "So, what are you doing with him?'

Sanji refused to answer that, eyes shifting elsewhere as Zeff crossed his arms with disapproval.

"Ya searching for some sorta daddy figure cuz ya didn't have one?"

"_NO_!"

"That one worse than a man my age with a case of dementia. Forgets everything told ta him the instant ya say it."

"_Don't_….please…I can't argue with you."

"I know that one. I know what he saw. What happened with the one before ya," Zeff said, shuffling his feet (_feet_, Sanji realized, looking down at a leg that wasn't there when he last saw him.). "Didn't think to bring it up."

"It'd been awkward if you had, because…I'm just now learning about it."

"Wouldn't make no sense to do anything with it, anyway. Gots nothin' to do with ya. That one and this one is two separate things. Two separate people."

Sanji nodded with agreement, glancing up at him warily. Despite his tone, the ghost of Zeff was gentle. Still giving him a look of disapproval as his aged eyes took in the crevices and angles that were visible. Zeff shook his grey head.

"So, then, you know he did that that day, knowing your mother put out the hit?"

"…No…"

"It matters. _This_ matters. Now that ya know, I can tell ya. The other one of you, who _ain't_ you," Zeff stressed, weathered hands gesturing through the air, "figured it out before it happened. There was too many conveniences in that place. A fight that got nothing to do with the story the media went ahead with. She orchestrated that fight, and _he_ tried to stop it. Judge lived – still does. Her hatred towards him was because of an arranged marriage, ya'know."

Sanji sighed long and slow. He was aware that times changed and shifted, and it was a loveless marriage. But Sora loved her children – of that was no doubt.

"She was just trying to get out of it, kiddo. Was no big tale about it."

"But she was trying to kill us, too."

"The mind of women expands territories us men don't even know about," Zeff sighed with a shake of his head. "Guess she figured she loved ya more than he ever could."

Wearing a thin frown, Sanji wasn't sure what to say.

"Not sayin' it's any right," Zeff said quickly, reaching up to smooth the escaping strands of his mustache, "but it explains her motives. It's up to you what you want to take from it."

"Right…"

"She told me all this…a confession," Zeff then said slowly, looking at him with trepidation. "Long after we got to the same place. What was I supposed to do with it? Ain't something I could pass along to ya. Ya got your own problems."

After a few moments, Zeff tapped his chin so that Sanji had to lift his head. "Once she realized that you started to resemble him, she felt guilt. Killing you would be killing him again, too. That's why you're still wandering these streets. She had a hand in it, kid. She didn't want to leave you all behind. You know that, now."

Frozen, Sanji absorbed these words. _Law was right_, he thought numbly. _She killed them_.

He couldn't even express himself in anyway after knowing this. Zeff gave him a look of pity. "Your mom is in a bad place, and has been for some time. Ain't in her right mind, and probably hasn't always been. Don't tell yourself to hate her – try to understand her."

Sanji didn't think he could bring himself to hate his own mother for her choices. But he felt numb with the truths because he could trust Zeff to speak them. Resolved, he inhaled deeply and released it just as slowly. "My mind is set. I want her to move on."

"Gonna have a problem with that," Zeff warned him. "She won't leave you behind."

"I'm still alive," Sanji murmured, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck.

"She recognizes him. Being the one that interrupted her attempt. She sees him as another obstacle, keeping her from her goal," Zeff then stressed. He straightened up, looking at Sanji sternly. "And your mom ain't ever been a damsel in distress. You know this, right?'

Sanji gave a slow, reluctant nod. Zeff tilted his head so that Sanji would look up at him.

"You're doing two jobs, here, right?"

Sanji nodded slowly. "But I don't know what happens when I succeed with the first. If he goes…I'll be left behind."

"You ain't going to miss him for that long, I can tell ya that," Zeff assured him gruffly. "There's plenty out there that would do better."

Without thinking, Sanji hugged the ghost fiercely, grateful that Zeff still felt _alive_. Still smelled of heavy spices, grease and salt. His breath caught in his throat for a few moments, humility and desperate making it difficult to speak. But Zeff hugged him back without hesitation, his heavy hands patting Sanji's back with strength Sanji would miss.

"Get some meat on ya, boy," Zeff murmured. "As my last wish."

Sanji nodded, giving one last squeeze before allowing his hair and glasses hide his expression as he pulled away. Before anything else could be said, Zeff was gone. The knife sharpener in Sanji's hand seemed to vibrate before falling apart, and he let go of the pieces with a startled sound. Watching them fall to the floor, he stood in silence for a minute before looking around himself. _The old man was gone_, he knew. The emptiness left behind felt so intimidating.

He rubbed at his eyes, glasses upset from his face before pulling himself together.

Picking up the pieces of the sharpener, he set them haphazardly aside into the open box, and continued looking. He followed the years as they were labeled, whispering each one aloud until he found the very first one. He noticed that there was an unlabeled space with a missing box, and frowned ever so slightly. The dates and name definitely belonged to the one before him – what would Law do with a box that was missing a gleam? What was the item that the one before him treasured that Law thought to keep when collecting a gleam? Sanji couldn't imagine.

He turned, looking this way and that. Hand on the shelf, he gave it a few taps, trying to _think_. If removing a gleam's treasured object conjured the ghost attached, then it would be easy to remove them all now. But Zeff was right – Sora would target Law to either 'remove an obstacle' or to use him as a distraction. It made more sense to remove the layers from Law after the task was completed.

Thinking about what Zeff told him made him feel sick inside. His emotions felt like they were at a standstill – his own mother…not like he could hate her, but how could he face her knowing what he did? Knowing what she was capable of? He couldn't imagine being able to think fast enough to stop her from hurting any of them.

He remembered the way Corazon kept her from touching him in the museum, when her desperation was clear on her features.

'…_learned the hard way that our contact with the living isn't always out of love_,' the shadow had said. Had Sora meant to do away with him right there? Sanji felt breathless with the possibility, hand shaking as it went to his head. Despite his resolve, there was no way he could avoid _feeling_ for her.

A loud rattling noise caught his attention, for his heart to jump right into his throat. He realized that the angry ghost was fighting his enclosure so hard that his box was banging against its enclosure.

Sanji hesitated for a few moments, then ventured towards it.

: :

He was in and out of the basement as soundlessly as he'd walked in. The three at the bar were chugging down mugs with some frothy amber liquid, Jean Bart frowning down at them with disapproval. Law slammed his down first and released a monstrous belch, Shachi following with Penguin giving a frustrated yell as he was last. Beer spilled over his lips and onto the bar while the other two laughed at him. Sanji watched them with revulsion. As they congratulated themselves and administered high fives over Penguin's complaints, Jean Bart colored the air with a curt scolding.

Giving an apprehensive look at the ghosts that watched Sanji silently, the blond noticed their shifting expressions of dismay. Most of them turned away with a sort of subdued expression; others sneered back at him. Sanji then approached the trio with his arms crossed over his chest and a disgusted look on his face. Law brightened up at the sight of him, waving at him to join them. The other two looked in opposite directions and grumbled between each other about some failed bet.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Law asked Sanji lightly. "You must've. Because that old man is gone."

Penguin twisted around in his seat with alarm, Shachi spitting out his newest drink. "_What the hell_?"

Sanji handed him the keys, Penguin snatching them from him with a look of horror. He then reached over and shoved Law off the stool, Shachi clambering from his with horrified curses.

"I did," Sanji said, frowning with disapproval at Penguin as he tossed the keys after Shachi, who hastily raced to the basement door. Jean Bart looked over them with a shake of his head.

"Didn't you see the sign?" Penguin snarled, the feel of a hard, metallic weight shoved against the underside of Sanji's jaw. It took the blond a few moments to realize the man was pressing a gun up against his head. It wasn't something he'd experienced before, so he froze with fright. "_Trespassers will be shot_."

Law finally managed to rise up from the floor, coming between them as Sanji's life flashed before his eyes. Law forcibly lowered Penguin's gun down to the bar with chiding tutting.

"And _you_ let it happen!" Penguin then shouted at Jean Bart, pointing the weapon at him. In response, Jean Bart slammed one beefy hand down onto the weapon, cracking his wrist against the bar and causing him to release it. The gun rattled off the bar and hit the floor at Jean Bart's feet while Penguin howled with pain.

Ignoring them, Law leaned up against the bar counter with one elbow, unbothered by the scene. He watched Sanji as the blond slowly composed himself. His face furrowed with mild concern.

"You look different," he said.

"Zeff….told me everything," Sanji said slowly. His eyes darted to land on everything but the older man. "I'm still coming to terms with it."

"Was it interesting?"

Sanji wasn't sure what to say, or even say it as lightly as Law's apparent attitude was. He swallowed tightly, trying to breathe. "It's as…it's…suggested," he stammered. Every word felt like a monumental effort to release. He looked to the bar, at the clean rows of alcohol. He licked his lips, eyes practically gleaming. "Everything you thought of it was…exactly as it was."

Law narrowed his eyes. "You weren't playing around in there, were you?"

"No."

"Opening boxes that weren't meant to be opened?"

"No?"

"Because you've got an accent, Sanji."

Sanji swallowed tightly. "Backup. A back up plan…so…we should go. Settle this."

Law used his height to crowd his space, Sanji finding it difficult to look him in the eye. "Your gleam is an interesting mixture of a stormy, grey sea."

Sanji's nose and upper lip twisted with intense revulsion, eyes rounded with incredulity. "Are you some sort of fucking _vampire_? Here to drink my blood? _Disgusting_."

Understanding in moments, Law shook his head incredulously. "Oh, you bad, _bad_ boy…"

Once he got the space he needed, Sanji shoved his hands into his pockets and seemed to shake ever so slightly. He glanced over at the basement door, then looked at the trio with a smirk that didn't fit his demeanor.

"Interesting," he commented lightly. "The amounts of trash you keep."

Law's smirk seemed to disappear in moments, his head then whipping towards the basement with dismay. Penguin's brow furrowed, wondering if he heard what he heard. He was absolutely positive Sanji hadn't spoken with a Scottish accent, before. He looked to Jean Bart then to Law with alarm.

"Ha _ha_!" Sanji then crowed, snatching the bottle of liquor from the counter before Jean Bart could. He took a swallow, then exhaled noisily with appreciation. "Oh, that's the good stuff…good luck cleanin' that mess up, ya quivering fucks."

He then flung the bottle at Jean Bart's head, then turned and jogged out from the bar, leaving behind many surprised expressions. Jean Bart looked at Law with exasperation as bottles crumbled and fell to the floor noisily. Law hurried to the window with a curse, looking this way and that for any signs of the man that left the bar. He then grabbed his things with a huff, looking back at Penguin and Jean Bart. Shachi threw open the basement door, breathing heavily.

"_Eustess_! Eustess!" he wheezed, shaking his finger about. "_He's got Eustess_!"

"This has been established, so it's time to see why," Law snapped back at him as Penguin scrambled to retrieve his gun while Jean Bart leaned up against the bar with a disinterested expression. "Get your shit, get the van. _Get that damn box_. You, bring the supplies. We're going to need them."

Jean Bart signaled that he understood, walking over to switch off the lights to the bar. Ghosts and crew members gasped in surprise, darkness crawling over which the windows' lights couldn't reach. Someone cried out that an earthquake was approaching. Mild chaos descended, to which he gave the area an exasperated look, gathering the supplies Law demanded as the other man slammed his way out of the bar, Penguin and Shachi hastily racing for one of the side doors.


	10. Watch The Colors Burst

**10: Watch The Color Burst**

* * *

Sanji found Sora as he was striding down a busy block, mind blurry with confusion. Nothing about the city made any sense, even as his feet moved naturally with the intention of going home. But instead of walking towards his apartment, he was heading towards the sea.

_So, this is why the constant scatter_, he thought with a touch of wonder. _He thinks individually, yet it's influenced by others. As impatient as I am with him, the amount of layers he has versus just one – no wonder he's asked if he's tired of the weight_.

"Sanji?" Sora called out, and he paused in mid-step, looking back at her. Her face was expressive of confusion as she walked lightly towards him. Her candlelight glow fluttered with her movements, as the living passed through her.

Something inside of Sanji seemed to lessen and retreat. Blinking a few times, Sanji realized where he was, the smell of the sea catching his senses. He looked in that direction, mystified to its closeness. Once he realized that Eustess had wanted to _go home_, it surely meant the sea.

It wasn't as if the ghost inside of him was taking control of him – like a puppet. Just that Eustess' life influenced Sanji's with such definition that Sanji had yet to recognize it. He remembered Law's surprised expressions in the midst of eating; speaking; breathing – the man often expressing such shock at his present surroundings that Sanji now knew why he reacted so obviously.

He looked to his mother, turning to face her. He couldn't hide his expression, but something inside of him roiled with anger that didn't match his own. Impatience, mystification and something hotter as he looked upon his own mother's curious expression.

“Sanji?" she asked, pausing just feet from him. "What's wrong, baby? You look a little…strained."

Sanji struggled to formulate his thoughts. _This broad thinks she could talk to me like that, after what she did_, he thought hotly, but that was Eustess' influence. He swallowed tightly once more.

"How could you?" Sanji then asked her. "Zeff told me everything."

Sora stared back at him with shock, then wounded exasperation. Her arms fluttered to cross in front of her as her stance grew rigid with stubborn might. "That man," she murmured with a slight shake of her head. "So…he told you."

"Mother…" Sanji trailed off, shaking his head as he found it difficult to speak. But Eustess' anger and hot temper made it easier. Instinct wanted him to soothe and placate her, to speak words that would gloss over the things Zeff told him. But this self-awareness in his mother's intentions kept him at a safe distance.

_I'm such a cheater_, he thought hollowly. _Using someone else's feelings to confront my own mother_.

He pushed his hands into his pockets, feeling them fist with hot strength. His shoulders rigid, and his jaw kept twitching – wanting to release words that weren't his own.

Once again, he was impressed with how Law conducted himself.

The area they stood in a quiet street – venturing towards warehouses that stood silently like ghosts, abandoned for their modernized counterparts just down the road. Squatters had left trash in the sidewalks, and traces of bonfires in metal cans alongside the building walls. Signs warned trespassers to keep out. Realty notices informed a reader where they could be contacted. Windows were long boarded and broken, tagged by symbols and words that meant something to someone. The area was in such disrepair, but the roads were maintained. It appeared there was an available beach within reachable distance – the dirty sand and rocky walls told Sanji fishermen came down here regularly. There were some men fishing off some old, mangled docks and some posted at the shore.

When he blinked, such sights were missing. They were Eustess' old memories – the area was similar to one he frequented, and both of them were confusing each other's thoughts. There was no beach – just a staggered shoreline with cold water that churned with light violence. The clouds in the distance were dark and heavy, the smell of rain approaching. Lightening zig-zagged in the darkness.

He blinked hard to clear his vision.

Sora was silent, her blond hair catching in the wind. She seemed listless at this point, her hands curled into tight fists. Her swollen features seemed more pronounced in this heaving weather.

"I have every right to be angry with you," Sanji then said, his voice hollow. "You struggled to keep us out of danger, but…in the end, it was _you_ we should have been wary of."

Sora lifted her eyes to meet his. "That's not true.”

"I know you loved us, that's not a lie, that's not something I can mistake," Sanji said hastily. "I know you do. But…you didn't give them a chance to grow."

The silence that seemed to rage around her seemed so loud to Sanji. A part of him wanted to break down and go to her, to comfort her for the things he was saying, but another part of him stayed put.

_Bitch is gonna kill me_, he seemed to think with surprise.

"We would've made it just fine," he insisted. "All of us!"

"I just wanted to hold my babies one last time," Sora said, her voice steady and calm as she brushed hair from her swollen face. "That was all. No harm intended. I never wanted to harm my babies. But…I wasn't aware that my own touch was that dangerous."

"So they were accidents. _Just_ accidents."

"Yes. That's all it was. My love for all of you just…raged out of control," Sora sputtered, expression tearful. "I just wanted to hold all of you close, so nothing more could happen, and nothing more could! They couldn't! And we could still be together - !"

"No, mother, _no_…!"

"I took them back. _All_ of them," Sora then interrupted him fiercely. "I couldn't just let Ichiji go on his own - ! He'd be lonely, wherever he went."

Frozen, Sanji did feel relief streak through him. It wasn't as if his siblings could be harmed again. They were just led to where they needed to be. But to confirm, he asked shakily, "You…you went to Reiju, Yonji and Niji? To take them…too?"

"_Yes_. While you were busy gallivanting with some creep that only wants to hurt us all. Taking us hostage, to use and suckle from like we were…" Her arms fluttered about with wild gestures, looking at Sanji with outrage. "And you thought it was okay! You thought - !"

"He was going to send you to where you needed to go - !"

"He was not, and you know it! _I_ know it! He was collecting us, just like how he used to! He blames me for the murder of his – his – _boyfriend_, or whatever," Sora sputtered, arm slicing through the air wildly. She then looked to Sanji with regret. "And you look just like him – that waiter. That stupid, _stupid_ man who thought he was doing such a good deed."

"Mother," Sanji whispered with absolute horror, "you were trying to kill father - !"

"For good reason! We didn't _love_ each other, that was an arranged marriage, I had no choice but to marry him! I didn't want that life! I thought if I could get out of it sooner, without any financial repercussions…"

Sora stared at Sora with intense revulsion, shaking her head ever so slightly. "But you look just like him. That waiter. And I thought - ! What if you are him?"

"I'm not. I'm not…" Steeling himself, Sanji then said, "You cannot be angry with me, I didn't do anything but live my life. Whatever choices I made, they were mine alone. However I wound up in his company – that was my choice."

Sora's eyes narrowed, the soft fall of rain hitting the water a distance away rolling over them like a continuous wave of sound. The moisture was thick and cold – Sanji regretted not having a heavier jacket.

"You gave me life," he then said. "And I thank you for that. However it turns out…those are my choices, mother. You cannot just stand there behind me, anymore, telling me what's good and what's wrong about it. You can't. You're dead."

"You speak these words so cruelly to someone that loved you with every inch of her heart," Sora murmured. Her expression was resolute. "I should've just ignored my sympathies, and tried again."

"You openly admit to wanting to kill your own kid!"

"I mean, _yes_, this is true. Now that it's out there, but it's for the best. Sanji," Sora then said, taking a few tentative steps his way.

"Not another step," Sanji warned her, hand out once he felt a bristling race up in his skin, Eustess reacting to her approaching closeness. "Not _another_ step."

"Ghosts can't hurt you, Sanji," Sora murmured. "All I want is to be near my son."

"It's time for you to go. You have the others…I just want to live. I want to see where my own choices take me," Sanji said slowly, glancing over his shoulder to check out his choices. _Don't you dare make the obvious ones_, he thought to himself as his eyes scanned the abandoned buildings. _Haven't you seen the leatherfaced man_?

_All I need is few minutes, and it'll be over_, he assured himself – but at that point, he wondered if he were speaking to himself or to Eustess.

He turned his back to her, stuffing his cold hands into his jacket pockets. Rain pattered onto the street, over the sidewalks with tentative drops. It began to fall onto metal pieces, racketing out noisily despite the gentility. He began walking, glancing at the street signs. Sora was moving closer to him, and he could hear the swish of her nightgown against her robe as she walked. The slight clap of bare feet against sidewalk. He glanced back at her apprehensively, and she watched him with a silent, solemn expression that was a mixture of unidentifiable emotion.

He turned around to face her once he reached an empty intersection. The lights still worked, flashing forlornly for traffic that wasn't there. But a car drove swiftly along an adjoining road, following by a cement truck. Down the road was a steep incline that led down to a bustling warehouse with plenty of parking space spotted with worker vehicles.

He took a side street, glancing from side to side, then chose to cross the street to one that had boarded doors. It was once a restaurant, he saw with relief. Boarded to keep out squatters and the like from trespassing. It had a wide, sloping porch that would allow him to be seen from the street, and give him an advantage to hold his conversation with a ghost to himself. He alighted up the steps, then glanced around himself for any dangerous possibilities. Sora followed him, her eyes darting back and forth – seemingly with the same assessment. He did notice the broken foundation of some sort of shed or long ago city ruin outside of the wheelchair accessory ramp, stretching from a hard packed dirt and weed surface. There was rebar present, jutting out like ribbed knives stretching for the sky, so he maneuvered to the other side.

_My mother is trying to kill me_, Sanji thought with building panic and horror. His limbs seemed to stiffen, the very notion of it causing his own feelings to render him useless. But he cracked his neck with a side-to-side tilt, loosening his shoulders. Movements that weren't his own. _Bitch thinks she's got one up on me. I'll show her a thing or two_.

"You think you got one up on me?" he asked her tartly, expression heavy with something he couldn't feel. Sora reacted with a start, staring up at him with a puzzled face. But her soft steps and gently flowing movement continued to keep her facing him. He kept distance from her with his own cautious steps. "Thinking it'll be easy to keep me in a corner just to put some knife down on my heart? Nah. It won't work. See, I can see these things, same as you. What I'm doing is distracting you until the real hero shows up."

It took Sora a few moments to sputter, "_Sanji_?"

"Then I take care o' him, too, for puttin' me in this place in the first place," Sanji stressed with exasperation. "Two birds with one stone."

"That one's the real enemy, miss," Sanji then said to her, nodding. "Taking what ain't his, taking other people's lives. Collecting them like we're fucking designer _pets_."

Sora's hands went to her mouth with shock before she started to understand.

"Using us when we're this defenseless. Like we wanna make such a mess!" Sanji laughed wildly. "We just wanna move on, get to the next, and yet we're stuck doing his bidding. You get me?"

"_Who are you_?"

"But you think that, right, mother?" Sanji asked her tentatively, blinking rapidly to look at the whole scene once more. He lightly paced the porch, highly agitated and near breathless as he continued ti accept that this was their final confrontation. "Law is…you warned me about him, and yet I trusted him."

_Still do_, he thought to himself.

Sora wasn't sure how to respond, watching her only living son with suspicious eyes. She grew closer to him, so he stopped pacing to watch her movements warily.

"You're not yourself," she said low, jaw clenching and loosening. "It's...it's as if you're using someone else's mouth to speak with. Because my little duckling...he wouldn't hurt his own mother so wretchedly..."

"I've spoken back, before."

"No. Not to this degree." Sora's eyes flitted about, as if searching for a stranger.

_She can't see him,_ Sanji thought desperately.

Seeing a good place to rest, Sanji leaned back against the railing, supporting himself with his elbows. The rain fell stronger, now, coating the sidewalk and street with its appearance. The smell of it was fresh and cold, and he inhaled deeply – yearning for a different type of rain. He looked over at her, just to see that she was just inches away from him.

He straightened up from the railing while she watched him with a sort of resolute expression that made all his hairs stand straight up on end, and for his own flesh to quiver with alarm. But he leaned in close, breathing alcohol scented breath over her glowing skin.

"Would do ya no regret to do it, would it?" he questioned her, wearing an expression of sheer delight. "Getting rid of your kid just to get back at _him_."

"Only _I_ have the kind of love for my children that no one else could," Sora replied calmly. "Only I can protect them."

"The only way of that is killin' them all, isn't it? How braindead of a lady," Sanji scoffed at her. "Thinkin' their way is the best way. Kill away, mother. Get rid of this idiot that stands before you. Ain't no one gonna miss him, yes?"

Pain flashed over her face before she reached out and shoved him. Sanji's body, malnourished and weak, was no match against the ghostly strength she possessed. He wildly flapped his arms to catch hold of something, but he was already heels over head, slamming down hard onto the ground just below the railing. His body instantly screamed with agony, and he looked down to see a set of rebars jutting through his chest. Impulsively, he jerked away, dancing to distance himself from the scene. But he realized it was Eustess laying there where he did, looking at the bars with open-mouthed shock. Sanji's mouth fell open as Sora looked at him with a start, realizing her mistake.

"How is this _happening_?" Eustess cried with rising fury, indicating the rebars that jutted out from his chest and stomach. He stood up fluidly despite the intention, his ghostly form easily bypassing the threat of injury. His own blood from his own deathly injury spurted about like dark geysers. "What is this shit? What…_who_ is trying to kill me again, I'm already fucking _dead_!"

Heart slamming against his chest, Sanji sought to calm it with a hand pressed there, looking down at himself with alarm. But he lacked injury, and he looked to Sora with realization. She looked to him, and was suddenly inches from him as Eustess looked over at them with confusion.

Before she could touch him, a long, gleam sword swept up against her neck, stopping her in mid-reach. The blade actually pushed into her skin, causing her a low gasp as she recognized pain. Sanji looked to Law with relief, the man red-faced and sweating with controlling effort.

"Any last words?" Law asked Sanji, straining to speak casually.

Sanji looked to Sora with regret as her wild eyes looked to him with desperation. Calmly, despite his thundering heart, Sanji said softly, "I still love you, mother."

Before he could add anything more, or she could return the gesture, Law cut through her. Her ashes spread in the pounding rain, glowing with soft light that flickered like fireflies. He stepped away from it, refusing the effort of taking her gleam. Both of them watched the flickering light as they caught within the rain, slowly extinguishing against the wet ground.

Frozen with the sudden end, Sanji stared blankly at the area where his mother's ashes disappeared. Law caught his breath, then allowed his body to relax with exasperation. Sanji could hear the shouts of Penguin and Shachi in the distance; aware that they were mocking, but deaf to the content. All he saw was his mother's death as it appeared in front of him.

Law looked at him, reaching out to palm the top of his head. "You _better_ be fine, pulling a stunt like that. I'll make the wound worse if you're hurt."

Sanji barely managed to shake his head, glasses removed so he could wipe his eyes. He couldn't speak, tortured by the confrontation with breath that just seemed to build and not release. Without Eustess' anger to fuel him, he felt exhausted and weak. A damned damsel that needed rescuing by a sweaty, alcohol-scented Prince.

Laughter caught their attention, both of them turning to see Eustess laughing under the pouring rain. Unbothered by the effects, the tartan-scarved man with blood staining his clothes caught his knees before straightening up. Apprehensively, Law stepped in front of Sanji with sword at ready. Sanji struggled to set his mind on the task, but the renewed death of his mother left his knees weak. He couldn't seem to catch his breath, his chest heaving suddenly with effort.

Law glanced at him before watching Eustess dig out the knife from his chest cavity. "Hyperventilating," he commented lightly. "Hold yer breath, eh?"

"I'm gonna getcha back for this kidnapping," Eustess threatened him, blood stained knife in one confident hand. "Now that I know your weak point."


	11. Under A Dome

**11: Under A Dome**

* * *

Eustess had been picked up during one of their international travels – a poltergeist that did more than 'bump in the night'. Killed during a bar skirmish, he acknowledged his death and made the pub pay for it. Long after the establishment was abandoned, he continued to wreak havoc along the block. Law's first encounter with him was a violent clashing – he'd encountered strong, powerful specters before, but Eustess had matched his moves and made it difficult for Law to figure out his weak point. Kikuko was absolutely no match against the redhead – in fact, every cut seemed to piss the ghost off even more, making him stronger. Eustess caused so much damage to Law that he actually lost the protection of his gleams at that time – he had knife scars along his arms and chest that were left behind as the result of this battle.

It was during this battle that Penguin noticed the ghost looking forlornly at the sea to catch his breath – sure enough, it was just enough for Shachi to capture the picture, and enclose Eustess in one of their boxes. The sea was his most loved item. Law had hoped he'd find a solution for Eustess' disposal throughout his travels and piling experience within the passing years, but the ghost was just a tough one to crack.

Facing him now, Law found an unfavorable scene – it was raining too heavily, night was approaching fast (made possible by the dark clouds overhead), and Sanji was too out of it to know better. In fact, the mouse was in the middle of hyperventilating, eyes locked on the last place of his mother's ashes.

But something about that particular area caused Law a double take.

It was a sliver of color – a spark of candlelight that seemed to burn white – hidden underneath a growth of cheatgrass., covered up by the falling rain and the thick gathering of stalks. It was steadily growing brighter, thicker – as if blooming into a full candle flame. Before he could venture in that direction to finish the task, Eustess was right in his face, knife swinging. Law moved his head just enough to feel the tip of the blade slice right across his throat – it would have been a killing blow if he hadn't the layers in place.

Law couldn't touch him – it was only his sword that could do the defending, that could do all the pushing and shoving. But the ghost could certainly touch him. Eustess had the upper hand. Law was counting on his layers to protect him as he maneuvered from side to side, keeping space between them and looking for a way to cut the angry ghost. Every cut he made on that blood-stained body stayed as an accusing red line – disappearing minutes later to reveal the ghost as is.

Eustess laughed, knife deflecting sword as he drove Law back. Law glanced over to see the candlelight blooming brighter, growing into a welling teardrop of light that steadily grew stronger. Sanji saw it too – he was stiff and unmoving as he watched his mother slowly regain her strength. With one hard swing, Law managed to throw Eustess off balance. He used a hard kick to force Sanji out of the way, and the other man flopped to the ground easily, like a rag doll.

Law whirled quickly in time to catch Eustess' hard plunge of the knife, just barely keeping that bloodied blade from making any connection with him. The ghost surged up against him, and Law forced his body to fade out, to go transparent. Eustess stumbled through his space as Law swept through him, shaking his head wildly to remove his troublesome glasses. Once Eustess steadied himself, he saw Sanji looking at him with terror from the ground – an easy target.

The sword plunged straight through his midsection, and Law pushed all his supernatural strength into picking up the bigger ghost up and over his head, swinging him out into the street. Eustess cursed noisily as he hit the asphalt, bouncing slightly as his blood splattered around him. He howled as his hands clamped over his mid-section, rising to his feet with furious action.

In that space of time, Law snapped at Sanji, "Get out of here!"

Broken out of his shock, Sanji scrambled clumsily to his feet. He looked over to where Sora was gathering herself together – larger than a baseball, turning into a bright glow that continued to consume the falling darkness around them.

Law then brightened with an idea, instead pushing himself in front of the man as Eustess began stalking over with a snarl, knife in hand.

"Stay as close to me as you can," Law instructed Sanji firmly, feeling the man's form against his. "Move every time I do, and do _exactly_ as I say! _Exactly_, no hesitations!"

Bewildered and scared as he watched the angry ghost approach them, Sanji felt his head swarm with panic and fright. He kept glancing at the flickering light that kept growing, and once he felt Law's body tensing, Sanji tensed himself. All his limbs were locked with absolute fear (_something he hadn't quite felt before, thanks to his mother_) and he just _knew_he was going to fail at this. His shaking hands gripped the back of Law's wet sweater, his legs heavy and seemingly useless.

"Yes, line yerselves up so that I can end this with just a jabbing blow," Eustess barked with a chuckle, lunging at them. Law met him in mid-motion, sword clanging off the knife, Sanji jerking forward to unconsciously use the man as cover. He wasn't as deft as the other man was, wasn't trained to fight – his own reaction was to squeeze his eyes tight and press his face up against his back, moving as Law did. His legs felt like they'd give out at any movement as he found his feet stumbling with Law's side to side movements, Eustess cursing the air blue and moving wildly just to get the knife in close.

Law grimaced as the knife caught him a few times – slicing over his skin with sure movements, cutting through his sweater and shirt. But though he was still impervious, it was a matter of time until a ghost could get rid of another. The blade swept through his skin and yanked outward near his collarbone – Law made to go transparent, but felt Sanji moving along behind him.

_Fuck_! he thought with frustration, preventing that move to escape Eustess' wild swings.

Sanji wasn't prepared for the blow as Law took a booted foot to the stomach, and both of them flopped backwards. Law used Sanji as a cushioning, sword swept down just in time to catch and flick Eustess' knife away from them. On his back, he continued jerking the sword from side to side, Eustess growing impatient as his knife continued to clang off the iron, or miss them entirely. Sanji was crushed into the pavement as Law used his prone form to steady himself, air whooshing out of his chest involuntarily with the heavy weight.

Eustess moved to kick again, Law rolling off Sanji – heels over head – and swiped at the kicking foot coming his way. Eustess steadied himself, breathing heavily as Sanji hastily crawled out from between the men. Law was breathing heavily himself, blinking rain from his face as he watched Eustess for his next movements. With one hand, he grasped Sanji's rain jacket, catching his attention. Eustess saw the movement and lunged at the unprepared blond, Law catching the knife that drove towards Sanji's head. Sanji flinched at the clang of weapon against weapon inches from his skin, jerking back in reaction with a startled cry. With the weapon caught against his, Law shoved upward to fling Eustess' arms up, giving him just enough space to crouch-walk around Sanji.

Breathing in panic, almost suffocating with the tension between the two, Sanji froze once more, unsure of where to go or what to do. Eustess was focused on Law, his ghostly, bloodied features tense with such a bloodthirsty expression that he looked demonic. In a deft, fluid motion, Law managed to twist his sword over his knife to plunge directly into Eustess' thick jaw. He rose to stand as the ghost howled, then used a boot against Sanji's leg to prompt the blond to his feet. Eustess thrashed his head about, deliberately plunging his face up and down the blade in a show of bravado.

"_Ya can't hurt me_!" he howled over the sounds of the pouring rain. "Ya can't fuckin' _hurt_ me!"

"Sanji," Law said low, not taking his eyes off the ghost that then jerked his head off from his blade. Once he felt he had the blonde's attention, he gestured at him to move ever so slightly to the left – Sanji saw that he'd be behind Eustess so Law could trip him, and so he clambered to his hands and knees, taking a sweep of his legs to be in the correct position.

"Up! _Up_!" he heard Law order moments later, so Sanji shot to his feet.

Eustess began to turn to look at Sanji, and Sanji froze once those wild, angry eyes connected with his. Law plunged his sword through the man's chest, the blade narrowly missing Sanji's face by sheer inches. He could feel the warmth of it as it pushed through the ghost, his own blood running cold with shock. With rapid movements, Law thrust the blade of his sword in the same spot, repeating it as quickly and strongly as he could. Sanji finally yanked backward just to avoid being pierced. In the spurt of that moment, he could hear Eustess' body giving away underneath the piercings – bones protesting, skin breaking. Blood shot everywhere.

In the midst of that moment, Sanji could see where the continued violence had caused that particular spot to cave in – an odd sight to see of human skin and bone that had been rendered to shreds by a strong weapon. He didn't know skin could look like that.

Eustess released a shrill roar of outrage. "YOU CAN'T KILL ME! EVEN IF YOU PLUNGE THAT BLADE THROUGH MY HEART! _I'M ALREADY DEAD_!"

"GRAB!" Law shouted, voice carrying out over the empty street with such desperation and order that Sanji instinctively grabbed the jutting blade with fingers held tight.

_Wait_, no - ! he thought moments later as Law withdrew his sword from Eustess with a strong jerk backward, effectively pulling Sanji's hand through Eustess's chest cavity. Through the repeated piercings Law had made just moments ago, Sanji felt every clenching muscle that sucked at his hand; he felt the broken bones of ribs that were caused by the sword's violent plunges; he felt every spurting, warm tangle of veins that seemed to crawl past fingers and catch between. His reaction was to automatically yank back, but he felt something hotter, pulsing, wet and firm against his palm. He froze because _he had his hand_ in someone's chest – clutching their heart.

Law reached out and snagged Sanji's palm with a superhuman grip, yanking Sanji's hand to him and pulling the blonde's arm through Eustess' back and chest so that half of Sanji's arm was jutting out through Eustess' chest. Sanji screamed with shock, fingers clutching forward as Law grunted and jerked once more. The force of it, having his hand gripped by a vise, yanked Sanji completely up against Eustess' back, but his forearm and hand – clutching Eustess' beating heart – was now in Law's face.

Eustess was frozen in place – his thick throat clenched, mottling with blood and bulging veins – but his rage wild eyes caught sight of the clutching hand that held his pumping heart. He was a _ghost_ – he was already _dead_ – but why was his pumping heart in someone else's hand?

Law grinned wildly, snatching the pulsing organ with his free hand and releasing Sanji's hand. In quiet shock, Eustess lowered his arms, looking down at his chest, and then at the organ that stopped pumping in Law's hand. Sanji could not believe that all of his arm, up to his shoulder, was caught in someone else's chest. He thought he was going to faint. He hung there clumsily, the taller man's solid body much taller and stronger than his.

"You can't kill me," Eustess stated with high pitched incredulity. "I'm already fuckin' _dead_."

With a wide swing of his sword, Law cut directly through the man's top half of his head. Sanji hit the pavement unprepared as Eustess disappeared. The ashes that burst outward were a soft, ghostly grey – shimmering brilliantly like falling stars before dissipating under the falling rain. The heart in Law's hand seemed to clench and pull inward before disappearing as ash in his palm. He quickly wiped his hand upon the pavement, wetting his hands in the collected puddles.

Sanji screamed with ragged horror, clutching his arm. He expected it to be covered in blood, in pieces of ash and light – but he was absolutely unharmed. He'd expected a deep gash in his palm and fingers from where he'd clung to the blade at Law's command – but a study of it revealed _nothing_. He was unharmed. He stared up at Law with shock, caught between heaving and breathing at the same time.

Law gave a chuckle, stumbling slightly as he shouldered his weapon. "_Excellent_. Put that in your book."

Sanji just screamed at him once more, holding onto his own arm. He wasn't hurt – just utterly disgusted that his arm, _his hand_, had been inside someone's body to eject a needed organ.

Law then collapsed to his knees, mist pulling away from him. Sanji stopped his screaming to see impressions of various people drifting up and away from the man, leaving him like wafting smoke. He clamped his mouth closed, incredulous at the number of people that left Law a shaking heap on the street. The sound of pounding feet caught their attention.

_He was wearing battle wounds_, Sanji realized, seeing opened gashes on the man's face and neck. In panic, he rushed to his side with fright as Penguin and Shachi crowded them with a bottle of liquor and a first aide kit. The white van was slowly moving their way, Jean Bart at the wheel. He had one beefy arm out the door; that hand clutched a can of beer.

Law shoved away his friends' helping hands, looking over to where the candlelight seemed to be building in strength. Remembering, Sanji looked over, rising hastily with apprehension. Before any of them could move, Law rendered most of his body transparent except for his hand. His form wavered, like interrupted light; moving in shadow and blurred white – like spots on an animal's fur.

Alarm raced through Sanji at that moment, lunging after him. He wanted to prevent Law to becoming _her_ – to wear Sora's expressions on his face, and have her thoughts in his head. His hands swept through the man as Law reached out and grabbed the twisting ball of light. In that moment, the colors of it changed, twisting and swirling, squeezing the candlelight into a smaller ball of light. Around it crowded the same colors that twisted around Law, until it overpowered the candlelight and surged into a brilliant flame of white and black. It eventually disappeared into his hand with a gentle surge of melting color, and the man was solid form once more. Pressed up against him as he was, Sanji became aware of his salty scent and a different surge of male musk that he recognized from the fleeting moments he'd smelled it.

Sanji pushed away from him, unsure of what to expect as Law kept his back to him.

Law breathed in deep and slow, as if appreciating the heavy scent of the falling rain. The white van shuddered before silencing, headlights shut off.

"Lock them," Penguin told Shachi, Shachi hurrying off to the van. He then hurried forward, peering up at his friend's face while Sanji stood back, uncertain of what was happening. "You good? You back to yourself?"

Law nodded, hair plastered against his face as his movements became slow and sluggish.

_Can I stay with an old man_? Sanji thought with fleeting panic, worried about the age difference.

"Tired," Law then mentioned. His voice was heavier and deeper; lacking the light edge of mania that Sanji was used to. His curiosity drove him to walk the few steps around to see the man for himself, nervous and cautious at the same time. The man looked the same – a twenty-six year old man that wore heavy eyes and a heavier frown. The expression(s) that Sanji was used to seeing wasn't there. This man just looked angry and heavy with something Sanji couldn't identify.

But Penguin grinned, slapping his shoulder, causing Law a jolt. "_That's_ a face I haven't seen in a long ass time! So it was true – you gave your fucking ghost to that broad - !"

"I mean, _lady_," Penguin corrected himself hastily to Sanji, cringing. He gestured at Law as the man winced, reaching up to touch wounds he didn't remember receiving. "Lady, I meant lady – "

"I don't understand," Sanji mumbled, confused as he continued to watch Law without acknowledging Penguin's slip-up. Hearing his voice, Law looked to him – then his face bloomed with shock.

Throwing an arm companionably around Law's shoulders, as if to keep the stunned man steady on his feet, Penguin told Sanji, "We had a theory that he gave himself away years ago! And _she_ was the one he gave himself to. So then when _you_ came along, Shach and the rest of the crew and I started plotting. We couldn't even look at you, man, because we can't keep secrets to save our lives."

He clapped a hand on Law's chest, causing the man to wince with pain despite the bloodied material. "And here we are. If we removed all the layers after this thing with Eustess, it would make room for the one that we needed."

"But…he…he killed her," Sanji stuttered with heavy confusion, still staring with mystification at the man that stared back at him in apprehensive silence. _Like he was seeing a ghost_, Sanji thought with some irritation.

"Yeah, that wasn't part of the plan. _You_," Penguin added, pointing at him accusingly, "almost fucked it up. You knew what we were doing. He must've told you to do it." He then shoved Law away from him, the man catching himself with a grunt. "And didn't tell us you were in on it. It was hard keeping faces, man. He had plan after plan, like he always does in case something failed."

"None of this shit makes any _sense_!" Sanji exclaimed reedily.

Shachi returned, Jean Bart with him. The taller man handed Law a bottle, the man taking it from him sluggishly. Sanji watched him open it with shaking hands, taking a gulp before erupting into coughs. Penguin snatched it from him, took a swig, then gave it to Shachi, who took his share before giving it to Jean Bart. He closed the bottle up and held it within both hands, as if awaiting for another chance to give.

"The boys are back together!" Shachi exclaimed cheerfully. "None of this weirdo manic shit, anymore."

"Take this _off_!" Penguin then ordered, grabbing handfuls of Law's ruined sweater and ripping it from him.

After what he'd experienced with Eustess influencing his thoughts and actions, Sanji had the horrifying thought of whether Sora was really experiencing what she had. None of it made any sense. Based on the information gathered, was her clinginess actually hers or his?

He mumbled, "_What the fuck_…?"

To Law, he asked, "So, are you the one person I haven't met? Or – or was this two and a half years of having this…_weird_ thing with multiple people that actually weren't you?"

Law looked to Penguin and Shachi with confusion, the pair of them unhelpful as they shrugged and looked at each other for answers. All of them shrugged as looks were exchanged and no helpful information was shared. Sanji tensed up with immense confusion and frustration, working his jaw from side to side.

"Actually, we wouldn't know every individual personality," Shachi mumbled uncomfortably while Penguin vibrated his lips and looked on with another helpless shrug. "Law here would just…get the gleams that caused people trouble and just…absorb. To become that mess you know, so…"

"Yeah, it could've been anyone, or everyone," Penguin said unhelpfully as Sanji looked at them with exasperation, Jean Bart staring at the bottle in his hands with discomfort. "You saw how many we removed. All of them combined together just…made that mess you're used to."

"What's this?" Law then mumbled to Shachi with discomfort, finally lowering his eyes to the street, his expression still stunned. His voice had a different edge to it – similar tone, but released differently. Sanji wasn't sure how to cope with this.

"Oh, uh, this person here – you've been having a clandestine affair with for, like, _two_ years," Shachi whispered back. To Sanji, he gestured at Law. "Tell him what happened."

Sanji stared incredulously at all of them, his mind swirling with confusion. He pulled his lips between his teeth, nodding ever so faintly. He couldn't find his glasses. Couldn't remember what he even did with them, or if Eustess had removed them. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, and gave a polite bow of his head.

"All of you can go fuck yourselves."

"Wow, _rude_," Penguin mumbled while Shachi gasped with theatric dismay. Law's face dropped, and he made to speak – but thought it would be useless at this point.

Sanji stalked away from the scene, the four of them watching him go before looking at each other once more. Jerking his head, Law forced himself to look away. He looked down at himself, noticing all the injuries he gained in some body draining fight.

"What an experience," he muttered lightly. "I felt like I've been sleeping for years…"

"Yeah, a lot of years had passed since you took off," Penguin guffawed, arm around his neck and forcing him to walk. Jean Bart passed Law the liquor, but he shook his head; already feeling the last swig he'd taken. "So much to catch up on!"

"Now that you're _unlayered_," Shachi added, walking alongside them, "you're going to need some stitches. Then hit Corazon later, because I bet that dude knows what you're missing."

"He's still here?" Law asked incredulously, unable to stop himself from looking over at the figure that strode away from the scene with angry steps.

"It's time for a break, dude. Just take a break."

"We worked tirelessly to keep up our end of the rescue mission," Jean Bart said as they clambered into the van. "We were ready, and we were prepared."

"It's taken a lot out of me," Law mumbled uncomfortably, feeling his shoulders sag. "I'm not sure what hurts worse. Almost as if I'd atrophied."

"We theorized that the collection of layers you already had, combined with those that you continued to take retained your personality after you left your body to join into hers," Penguin told him, urging him to draw on a seatbelt. Law did so clumsily, startled at the sight of modernized dash that Jean Bart was touching to force on the heater.

"Your ghost must have latched and merged into lady Vinsmoke's," Shachi added. "And continued to do so, influenced by her actions and her thoughts because she loved that kid."

"Yeah, she _loved_ him," Penguin agreed, Law wearing an expression of confusion.

"Because he was there, _that's_ how you clung to her," Shachi decided. "_That's_ what allowed you to live, even as she became a ghost. Gleam to gleam. A similar way to how you layered your gleams over your body to retain the supernatural strengths."

"And in turn, the gleams left behind in your body took over from there. He should've stuck around here to hear our awesome explanation."

"I don't know, I'd be wounded, too. Some guy fucks around with me for years then just leaves me realizing it wasn't _him_ I was fucking with, it was a crowd of people – _tut_, _tut_," Shachi said with a sigh, shaking his red head.

Law sat quietly, listening to their conversation. Hands folded to brace against his chin, he had to reluctantly agree with them.

: :

Two days later, he quietly followed after Sanji into the museum. The blond was not speaking to him warmly. He wore a rather angry expression and released such short words that Law both bristled and suffered in silence with both anger and guilt. It was difficult to speak when the face of the only man he'd ever loved was treating him so coldly; when Law struggled to accept his death, and the circumstances around it.

But he couldn't excuse himself from it – he just helplessly took the anger with a sullen expression, and answered when he was able, and when he needed to. Somehow, the blond found it within himself to take him places that were apparently important. He was still wearing his work uniform underneath his rain jacket – his sloppy appearance was so unlike the one Law had fallen in love with years ago, so that it was difficult to think that this was the same person. But only Sanji had those answers, and he wasn't giving them up so easily.

The museum announced closing times in twenty minutes as they walked in. The site where a school once stood, where Law had used the guise of being a biology teacher (he vividly remembered that, thinking of teaching as an acceptable job should he quit this one), had changed and expanded to a two-story museum. He was in awe of the displays, but he recognized and saw Corazon immediately.

The black shadowy mass was gone – the too tall man lurched out from his position near the window with a bright smile, cigarette caught between his teeth. To Sanji, he'd remain a shadowy mass with no definite features.

"_Holy crap_, I didn't think I'd see you again!" Corazon exclaimed brightly, venturing towards them.

Sanji looked around them uneasily, wondering if anyone could see the lurching black shadow crossing the pathway towards them.

Law nodded solemnly in greeting. He had a bandage placed over a long gash over his cheek and jaw, so it made it difficult to display any sort of smile. He _felt_it, that was a sure thing. "Cora. It's a long story."

"But you're back!"

"A lot has changed," Law said with discomfort.

"Have at the cheery reunion," Sanji muttered crossly, walking away from them.

Corazon looked after him with a puzzled face while Law remained frustrated, head lowering with uncomfortable misery. Corazon turned his attention to him, frown shifting to concern.

He wore a pale outfit – white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, pants with suspenders, worn leather shoes. But his torso was riddled with bullet holes that left his shirt colored with accusing red. Blood continued to gleam at his mouth, as if he were wearing clown makeup – his forehead fringe matted with it. Corazon never told Law how and why he died – he just did.

In the time after and now, Law found that adjusting to present time was vaguely difficult. He had memories of it that weren't his, so they felt like dreams. They were from Sora's perspective. He could operate devices with some clumsy knowledge, but he was still awed at how much had changed. He was faintly familiar with the city, but that had changed, too, since Sora passed. His feelings for her son…those were complicated.

As much as Sanji resembled the waiter, he clearly wasn't that bright, cheerful man. He was so dark and dreary, lacking in confidence. Law's own feelings felt chaotic – almost as if he'd been slapped in the face by someone he'd trusted. Because of the circumstances, Sanji wasn't speaking to him intimately – he addressed Law like a stranger, and Law wanted to shout at him that they _weren't_strangers; but he didn't know this man, either.

It was overwhelming, and it stripped him of his voice because he didn't know what to say. All that he knew was that he was given a second chance – something he was already failing.

It was Sanji's suggestion that he visit Corazon to 'catch up'. Law had started to think that the man would just use the convenience of this situation to disappear, but he didn't. Law was too uncertain to give it any hope. He could see Sanji's side, but his seemed to hurt worse. He happened to glance in the direction Sanji had taken, and felt his lips pull into a hard frown because he just did not know that person.

Corazon caught his attention by tilting his body down in his line of vision. "So, where does it begin?"

"Sora Vinsmoke," Law answered gruffly. "For some reason, she attempted to drown herself in…that pond behind this place. I had _his_ gleam. _He_ wanted me to save her. I did, and…gave myself away in the process. That's the end of it. Anything else said would just be a lie."

Corazon absorbed this answer, straightening up. "You remember nothing else?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"_Wow_," Corazon murmured incredulity. "Awkward."

"Very. When I revived her, that one must have taken _his_ gleam. So…he wore the impression until…well, he's gone. Always will be. But….that face…"

"_Sooo_ awkward," Corazon whispered, hands to his mouth.

"I suppose he can be angry at me, but…none of it is fair," Law insisted tightly.

"The one I used to speak to had no idea _what_ he felt or why," Corazon murmured. "So scattered and up one end and then the other. Like talking to strangers that didn't know what they were saying, either. So he avoided me."

"It was a tornado of mixed personalities and feelings and memories that were…somehow retaining mine. My body, its experiences – a brain that already had the knowledge. Multiple people took it over and had no idea how to conduct themselves. _It's not my fault_!" he added with a growl of frustration. "All these years were choices that weren't my own – I wasn't even aware of myself as…being hers."

"Now you get to start over, Law," Corazon said gently. He couldn't help but smile. "I see only you, by the way. Not all the others."

"The crew locked them up so this could happen. Apparently…they worked together without telling…me…to help get me back because they figured it out. That…I…wasn't in there."

"They're a good crew."

"They're so different, as well," Law muttered, still frustrated. "I'm getting to…re-know them, too. They're grown, and yet they still retained parts of themselves that I remember. Apparently, I kept feeding them so that they…would continue to live."

"They're a good crew," Corazon repeated gently. "They were looking out for you. But considering the warp of personalities that was supposed to resemble one…they had to be careful."

Law once again glanced in the direction of the blond that stood sullenly near the lobby. People were already leaving the facility – clutching flyers, and bags of souvenirs. He gave an angry grit of his teeth. "He hates me."

"He doesn't _know_ you," Corazon reminded him lightly. "That mess, well…it would make anyone angry and confused. Focus on yourself, now. Get to know yourself all over again. Align with the times. Things have changed so much…!"

He then winced, reaching out to tap on the bandages there were plastered to Law's face and neck. "What happened here?"

"Some…angry ghost I had to fight." Law shrugged, scratching at the one latched to his jaw. "I don't even know that part. But…I did it. The impossible. He was reportedly unkillable."

"What a mess…"

"_Aye_, what a mess…"

At the reminder that the museum was near closing, Corazon exhaled heavy smoke around his forever cigarette.

"Come visit me again. You know how to get here, how to find me."

Law nodded, crossing his arms tightly then wincing when that movement upset some of the other bandaged areas.


	12. In A Foreign Place

**12 : In A Foreign Place**

* * *

It took a couple of weeks for the crew to introduce Law to the modern world. He absorbed it slowly and carefully – treated to a tour of the things "he" liked and the things he did. He felt like he was watching someone else in the security camera footage; it felt like he was walking into a stranger's closet when he saw his rows of clothes and accessories. He allowed Penguin and Shachi to round up things he couldn't possibly wear again, and refill it with the things he was comfortable with.

They started to complain about what an "old man" he was, but Law's personality had always been quiet and somber. They introduced him to the forum that they used to find jobs – but they also talked in depth about what would happen if they quit that life. Seeing that Law hadn't reverted to the age that he should have been gave the others confidence that they'd remain as they were, too.

But Law found it was difficult to talk about their true personalities. They didn't carry as many layers as he did, but they themselves were scattered and vivid – unlike their real natures. Penguin had always been quiet and serious, slightly angry and quick to some type of physical violence while Shachi had been nervously chatty and mimicked Penguin's moods because he wanted to fit in. Both of them now had their own space of rowdy traits that startled Law when he was brooding in the corner of the bar. Jean Bart was blessedly the same – choosing to collect gleams that fit his personality, so it was as if the man hadn't changed at all.

All that was missing from the moment was Sanji. The man had given Law his phone number and mumbled that he could text or call him if he needed to, but Law was too uncomfortable to do that. He was still figuring things out. He felt a hard, aching tear in his chest that told him he had yet to recover from the waiter's unexpected death – grief wasn't a minimal thing to gloss over.

But the crew alerted him that the pair were quite confident with the information that had been missing, and yet none of them knew exactly what was said because neither man had mentioned it. Law knew he needed that closure, but how to approach a stranger he had supposedly been intimate with for some years?

He felt awkward, almost as if he'd cheated. The bar had started to change with his reappearance – it wasn't so rowdy. There were people who just wanted a drink to get home, and regulars that just wanted to enjoy the space. Those who had taken advantage of it for a good time had found another place to suit their needs.

He had been a medium of limited strength – he could see and hear the ghosts that _approached him_ only. With a collection of gleams, he could see their light. Without any gleams…he saw only ghosts. He learned to ignore those that knew he could hear them, and long learned to protect himself from those that were desperate to be acknowledged. How he got into the gleaming aspect…well, that was another memory to explore.

He looked at the phone sitting on the table. It wasn't as if Sanji cut him out of his life – he gave Law options, invited him to continue communication. But it would be difficult to do so, knowing he wasn't speaking to the one that he yearned to have back with all his heart. He had to know, though. He _had_ to know the other man.

: :

With some discomfort, he found himself outside of Sanji's apartment later that night. It took some time drawing up courage to do so. His ears seemed to ring the entire time he approached the door. The woman in the elevator – a horrifying murder victim – had asked him if he was there to commit more sins. He tuned out her homophobic rants, but found himself troubled that things hadn't changed regardless of the time period.

He stood at the door for so long, trying to urge himself to knock. But he didn't know what to say, and his voice seemed too heavy to release. He had to admit that he felt too fragile to be snapped at and disregarded by a face that always seemed to know him better than what he was.

He looked down at himself self-consciously. Jeans, a hoodie, some sneakers that resembled the ones he used to own _("Ew, it's like you're trying out for the Sandlot," Penguin had muttered_). His vision was fine – he didn't need glasses. It had been some rare luck that his vision hadn't been affected by that. He slipped his trembling hands into the hoodie pocket.

His stomach churned with upset as he struggled to think of the words he needed to say. He wasn't that much of a talker – _the waiter filled the air with conversation for the both of them_ – and he was aware that as someone else, he was someone else to this person. It was a struggle to hold himself as someone that could be liked after all of this. But how was he supposed to apologize?

There shouldn't be anything for Law to apologize for.

The door opened suddenly, startling his hands out of his pocket as Sanji gave him an impatient look.

"You just going to stand there all night, like some creeper? _Knock_," he muttered, leaving the door open so that Law could enter.

Law bristled with irritation at that tone. Though he was given a jolt of adrenaline, he hesitated before letting himself in. He stopped with breath taking horror as he laid eyes on the apartment.

It was his. The waiter's. Paintings that were his type on the walls, furniture to his liking, color arrangements that were as bright as the apartment he'd kept before dying in that damned restaurant. Right down to the wooden floor, muted floor rugs and white bookshelves with books arranged haphazardly by topic. The kitchen had the same color scheme, with matching accessories and white dishes that were currently being shelved from a simple dishrack near a steel sink.

With stiff motions, Law shut the door. His heart was in his throat. It hurt so badly that it took a few moments for him to compose himself. He had to blink away the alarming build up of moisture that caught on his lashes. Sanji had his back to him, so Law quickly composed himself and wiped his eyes.

God, it felt just like yesterday when Law learned of the shooting. It had been years before he moved himself to take his remaining gleam. But it still felt _raw_.

_God is cruel_, he thought before walking to stand within the center of the living room. Even the bedroom he could see near the cornered windows was the exact type of setup that remembered. The material was different, but the color scheme was so similar…

He took a shaky breath, the sound too low for Sanji to hear while he was in the kitchen. The man wasn't him, Law reflected heavily. His hair was so messy, caught in a weird undercut and ponytail – so rail thin that bones jutted with his movements, and his clothes (work uniform and jacket) hung on him like oversized hand-me-downs.

He turned to look at Law, asking gruffly, "Did you eat, yet? Are you hungry?"

_Eat_.

Law remembered writing that on a slip of paper when the voice commanded him to. He'd gone days without nourishment, swept up in his own grief. He carried that paper around with him, just to remember the sound of his voice. He wondered what happened to it.

He didn't answer fast enough, internally struggling just to hype himself up to.

"I'll cook something," Sanji decided with a grunt, reluctantly opening his cupboards. "But I don't have much. You still like breakfast stuff?"

Law never ate breakfast. He wondered which gleam demanded that. He shook his head. "Just coffee," he managed to say.

"Then you won't be able to sleep. I'll make you tea," Sanji decided with some relief, setting the pot underneath the faucet to fill. "Sit down. Tell me what you want."

Law slowly followed the order. He felt clumsily with hands and legs that felt too stiff to move. The smell in the apartment was different – it took him a few minutes to realize that this Sanji did not smoke. It smelled of musty shelves and rain.

He tried not to look around himself. He kept seeing reminders.

"You look better," Sanji said, glancing at him. "All healed up."

Because it wasn't something that felt necessary to expand on, Law just nodded.

"Not much of a talker, huh?" he heard Sanji mutter as he searched for his teabags. "That's different."

He raised his voice to be heard. "Usually you'd start jabbing away the moment you walked in that door. Breaking in. Finally got to see how you did it. Can you still do it?"

"No," Law answered slowly. "It's just me."

Sanji worked at the counter before rustling his way over to him. Despite Law's denial, he brought him some wheat toast and apples that were sliced in quarters. "Eat it anyway. Looks like you lost some weight."

"I'm here to get information," Law said woodenly. "That's it. I'm still missing certain periods that led up to that night. I'd like to understand what happened."

Sanji walked past him, rummaging in the bookshelves. When he returned, he dropped two journals in front of him. "This was two years of trying to understand you," he said tightly. "You can read them. Apparently, you did anyway."

"I'm not that person," Law said tightly, unable to stop himself from glaring up at him. It caused Sanji to pause in motion. His movement and brief reflection of timidity made something inside of Law angry – disappointed in himself in expecting some tart response, or jeering remarks on his attitude that were given out of affection. "So stop treating me like I am."

_Did this man cry if someone spoke badly to his face_? Law wondered with bewilderment.

Catching himself, Sanji returned to the kitchen without saying anything. He did turn up the flame on the burner.

_Who is scared of who, here_? Law thought, looking at the journals. He didn't open them.

The silence and tension made it more difficult to breathe. It was hard enough being here.

"What do you want to know?" Sanji then mumbled from the kitchen. "Didn't they tell you everything already?"

Even his voice was softer, quieter than _his_. Despite the appearances, this man was not the one Law had lost. _He was gone_. It hurt badly to once again be reminded of this. He swallowed tightly, hands finding their way back into his hoodie pocket.

"They don't know the circumstances leading up to the final confrontation. They mentioned that…you and I…found out the rest on our own."

After pulling the teapot off the stove, Sanji found his cup and took both items to the table. He poured Law a cup, then took a seat himself. Law braved the chance to look at him. There had been many sleepless nights for Sanji, and his cheekbones looked sharp enough to hurt if touched. He seemed to be drowning in his own clothes and jacket, which he had yet to remove. The apartment wasn't cold.

Sanji told him what happened. Law listened without touching the hot cup of tea, puzzled by the circumstances that unfolded. But the details made sense. Now he knew. He was interested in this Robin character – he was pretty certain he'd met her before. He didn't feel like mentioning that to a stranger.

After Sanji was finished speaking, he removed his glasses to wipe at the bridge of his nose. His eyes were different – dark brown rather than bright blue. He spoke with his head down, hair in his face; apparently trying not to look at him, either. Both of them addressed the table rather than each other.

After some tense silence, Sanji then said, "I'm going to my father's house…to see if it's true."

Law knew nothing about the family dynamic, so he felt that this was a weird topic to bring up.

"Did you get the payment you were promised to get Zeff out of there?" he then asked Law, glancing at him.

Law didn't know who Zeff was. He shrugged in response. "Those guys handle that stuff."

"Well…you should check. He forgets that kind of thing, sometimes. You might need it."

"I saw my bank account. I'm not hurting for any extra."

Sanji exhaled through his nose, as if exhausted. They'd run out of things to say.

"What….will you do now?" Law asked him. Sanji's response was an absent shrug. Law lifted his eyes to look at him. "So…you…hear and see them. Like I do."

"Yes. But…not here."

Law glanced at his surroundings, taking a deep breath to say, "But everywhere I look…it's him."

Sanji looked up apprehensively, fiddling with anxious fingers that didn't know what to do. He glanced around himself, as if looking at it all for the first time. He released a heavy exhale. "I feel that none of this stuff is mine. But it's here. At one point, you had me questioning my own existence."

Now that he had a hold of it, Law absolutely had to know for sure. "Do you ever remember another life?"

Sanji shook his head, wearing a heavy expression. "My life…is the one before you."

"Is this," Law gestured at him, indicating his appearance, "some brief depression?"

Giving a waning smile, Sanji shook his head. "Nope. This is me. I, uh….survived sibling bullying, a cold father and a suffocating mother. In between all that were…all the ghosts that keep thinking I can do something for them, and…well, I was a fat kid that tried to fill the void. I got control of that, lost control of it – I hated men because of what I grew up with, and strangely allowed you – _him_, _whomever_ – to invade my life. Nothing about it couldn't possibly be what you're asking for."

In a way, Law was relieved to hear that. His waiter had grown up rowdy and strong, not allowing anyone to speak down on him or give him any lip. If this was the childhood Sanji had, then…the gleam Law had given him years ago was gone. Gleams were the influence of a user's actions and thoughts, and it was apparent it had faded before it could make an impression other than a physical one.

He exhaled shallowly, Sanji watching him with a tense jaw.

"Disappointed?" he asked the quiet older man.

"Relieved," Law corrected him. "I have my own feelings to sort out."

"I suppose so. I knew it would come to some version of this," Sanji then said, shifting his seat, jacket rustling. He then trailed off, unsure of what to say. His pet(_boyfriend_?) was being adopted, and his time of fostering was coming to an end without allowing him an option. He was aware that he would be accusatory and unnecessarily angry, but he didn't know what to do with it. He shrugged a shoulder, turning his attention to pick at dry skin around his nails.

"So…what are you going to do?"

"Learn to live again, I suppose. It's been…quite some time."

Sanji wasn't sure about this man's voice – it lacked the slight edge of light rambling and sarcasm, and had grown stiff and nearly angry. But there was still flicks of familiarity in it. Looking a face that was so familiar and strange at the same time, it felt to Sanji that this man will not smile or look at peace as Sanji was used to.

Visions of them just being in each other's space felt like someone else's dream. A nightmare, perhaps.

"We can still talk," Sanji assured him, looking at him with uncertainty.

At that moment, Law was unsure about that. His silence gave Sanji the answer he'd been dreading, and he nodded without direction to refocus on his nails.

Law didn't think he had to explain himself, but he considered the footage he'd seen. It depicted two people that only had to speak with expressions only, that comfortably crowded the other's space and showed intimacy that was there from familiarity.

He said tightly, "I was grieving before I found her. And it still feels the same. So…it's important that I use this time to…deal with it."

Sanji struggled to control his expression, but his hair helped to hide his face as he lowered his head. He nodded to indicate that he understood.

"Yeah, I…I gotta fix myself, too," he mumbled.

Law wasn't sure why, but he ended up apologizing. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, I…I expected it. Besides, I was always threatening to break up, anyway," Sanji said, giving a weak chuckle. "It was…such a mess, and it was so much and…I knew I was..."

He trailed off because it didn't seem right that he should say "_being used_", because it wasn't this person's fault. Plus, he thought if he spoke positively, perhaps this new person across from him would reconsider the space between them.

"I just…hope you find happiness again. And…_thank you_. For…for doing what you did. Giving me life. Like…it may not seem like anything to you, or it might look bad, but…I appreciate being able to live."

He added a smile to hide his shaking feelings, hoping his glasses would at least hide some of his expression. But the man wasn't even looking at him. Just glaring away from him like the conversation wasn't of any importance to him.

Sanji didn't know that Law was struggling to understand his own guilty, ugly feelings, because while it wasn't his fault to be in this situation and to hurt someone that cared for him, his own pain didn't involve this person. Grief was a lingering weight on his chest and in his mind. His way of coping was holding it inside and showing a strong face.

Sanji added in a mumble, "I'll still be here if you want to talk."

Law nodded to show that he understood, but he rose up from the table. His hands were shaking as he slipped them into his pocket, and he left without saying anything else. Sanji's eyes burned hot before he looked down at his own clasped hands. He noticed that the journals had been left behind.

Because it was there, he nourished the hope he still felt with a soothing assurance that Law would be back for them another day. He turned to look at the closed windows, hearing the rain fall with soft tapping against the window panes. It was deathly silent in his apartment, his only presence a heavy weight amidst the emptiness. He glanced about, once again wondering what motivated him to decorate his place with things he didn't remember buying.

He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, then removed his glasses to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket.

: :

A week later, Law found the headstone he was looking for. The cold breeze that caused memorial gifts to rustle against stone and wood, for the trees to rustle with soothing noises and traffic in the distance made him feel like he was alone. He tucked his hands into his black jacket, the heavy hood allowing his hat to stay in place without lifting too far from his eyes. Staring down at the name imprinted on the stone, along with the birth and death dates gave him some closure. He was reaching that aspect. He found it incredulous that he'd been given a chance at that time to know the affection and love from another human being. The length of time between the date of death and now was a long one. How many years had he spent grieving? Five? Seven?

He remembered their last encounter.

The restaurant had been shut down years after that, and was in the process of renovation. So the unfinished floors and taped windows, with extra supplies stacked in empty corners gave it a different feel. The waiter stood out amidst the mess because he gave a soft blue glow, like that of the deep shadows of the ocean from above.

"Hey, stranger," he'd addressed Law, still dressed in the uniform he'd died in, but wearing bullet holes that seemed to glimmer with recent release. Law understood he was looking at a ghost because he'd watched the burial. He was present in the mortuary. But seeing the waiter as a ghost – an otherworldly being caught in the place of his death and giving company to colleagues and diners alike – gave Law the finality in never being able see him as the living. Like gazing upon a picture that he didn't make. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Checking on you."

"What's there to check?" the waiter had asked with a mystified look that turned to annoyance. He plucked cigarettes from the inside of his pocket, and had one lit. Law could remember that smell no matter what. "What's the point of coming back here, idiot? Move on. I made a decision I won't regret."

"Sacrificing yourself for people that don't even appreciate it? They were nobodies!" Law snapped at him, his voice loud within the building's space. He had to lower his voice, his breath hard to release from the pressure in his chest.

"She was a very lovely lady. I felt sorry for her. Married to a slob that barely remembered to wait before she was served." The waiter rolled his eyes. "_Real_ gentlemen put their ladies first."

"Fuck _off_…"

"Hopefully I made a positive impression," the waiter then snickered, leaning against the doorframe into what had been the main dining area. "Something like, _Ah! My hero_!"

"What about me?"

"What _about_ you?"

"You…you left me."

The waiter puffed at his cigarette, giving an agreeable nod. "Yeah…there's that. But here's the thing," he said, straightening away from the doorframe. "You have the unfair ability to live forever. What, did you expect me to do the same? I'd just get older and older and you'd remain the same."

"No…no, I…I would've stopped."

"I say it's unfair because what's the point of that? Living too long to outlive the people around you, watching them wither and die? The life of an immortal is a lonely one."

Law shook his head incredulously as the waiter finished his cigarette. He stamped it out on the unfinished wall – leaving no trace. The butt he flicked aside faded into nothing.

"Far as I see it, I did you a favor."

"How is your _death_ a fucking _favor_?"

"This job you have? It's an addiction. Like me sayin' I'd quit these," the waiter snapped at him, patting his jacket pocket. "You think I'd quit these?"

"_I_ could quit."

"You're too far in to quit. You're a curious guy, you're interested in how the world turns out. It'd be selfish of me to take that away from you simply because I was getting old. Plus, it preserves the looks," the waiter added, gesturing at his face with a smirk. "I remain handsome as fuck."

Law had shaken his head again, huffing. "Your humor is fucked up."

"Law."

Looking at him, Law found it hard to concentrate. All he could feel at that moment was overwhelming grief that he couldn't have these conversations anymore. Couldn't breathe. The waiter looked at him with a light smile.

"It's pointless being angry. I had a good life. Being with you was…the cherry on the icing. None of it was something I'd look back and regret. I just…I wish the very best for you. After what you went through, I'd want you to experience more of _this_. As many times as possible before you finally decide to give it up."

"I can't do this again…I can't _breathe_…!"

"Stop being a baby. You were given a gift, use it. You're helping people. What's wrong with that?"

"_Everything_ \- !"

"You're learning different trades, you're watching the world improve. You got good friends that'd not hesitate to take a bullet for you. That guy at the school – you got a father figure that adores you, no matter what shit you spew. You're lucky. Me? I'd want nothing like that. Outliving things and people that I love? Would be the worst. You coming back here? If you're intending on taking me, I'm going to make your life miserable."

Law said nothing, because that was his motive in the first place. So he wore his guilt angrily. The waiter gave an irritated huff.

"Let me go," he said low. "I do not want to be wandering around here, repeating all the last events like some tape reel, or as a part of you."

"I can't…I can't let go," Law replied, his voice just barely above a whisper. "_I can't_…!"

"What's the point of keeping me, influencing your decisions?" With a point of one finger, the waiter added, "I'll make your life miserable. Make you do all the things you didn't want to do. Like bottom."

Law looked at him dryly as he snickered, lighting up another cigarette. "Even now, in your death, you have stupid shit to say."

"Once you do it, you'd understand."

"I did come here to…get you. But…I didn't think into the rest of it. Times are going to change," Law then said, looking around himself, at the changes happening to a restaurant he knew well. "and the thought of leaving you here in it…it felt wrong."

"I'll turn you into a vegan."

"Just for a little while," Law said over the light threat. "Just until…I can let go. I thought we'd vacation overseas for some time, so…go to places you wanted to go, and you can finally – "

"Sounds stupid."

"_Why_?"

"Because it won't be _me_ appreciating the sights. It'd be you thinking I'd like it, but you don't know what the fuck I like. Later on…I hope that you can find someone else to share that with."

"I'm taking you."

The waiter sighed with exasperation. "This stubbornness of yours is something I didn't like, that's for sure."

"Why couldn't you think of me before you did something so…?"

"I did. I did think of you. I thought, It was a good thing you were away at work. Because they were sitting next to your favorite table, and once people realize you _didn't_ die like the shitty jerks that were sitting there, they'd accuse you of being a vampire, or some shit, and I'd have some weird things to explain why."

After a few moments, the waiter exhaled and fragrant smoke, tossing aside his cigarette once more. "Never mind. Take me."

Law glowered at him suspiciously. "Why?"

"I change my mind."

"Now I don't want to."

"Make up your mind." The waiter then smiled lightly. "All I ask is that you promise me one thing."

Warily, Law frowned at him. "What's your plan?"

"The shooting wasn't random. I saw the way she kept looking in that direction. How nervous she was, switching her seats, how suffocating her husband was. The setup was interesting. She needs rescuing. That poor, _poor_ woman, suffering under the weight of a decision she must've never made! Because…did you see that jerk? _Wow_. No one would marry that willingly – "

"I will _hate_ her until the end of my life - ! Whoever she was!"

" – not that I want you two involved, in any way," the waiter amended himself hastily, "but because I think there's more to come. I don't think that'll be her last attempt. Follow her around like some disgruntled guardian angel, and I'll tell you what to do."

"_I'm not doing that_."

"Then what are you here for? To torture yourself? Standing around here like some jackass, changing your mind every fucking five minutes? I'm _gone_, I'm done for – move the fuck on! It's pointless wallowing in something you couldn't change or predict, and shit happened unfavorably for both of us, but it happened. You have the advantage, you get your flat ass out of here and start living your life without thinking it needs to be stopped just because I'm gone."

"_Don't yell at me_."

"You'll get your revenge, Law," the waiter then said patiently, lowering his voice as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back up against the wall. "Probably not directly as you're thinking now, but…everything comes back around."

Law listened to him with a drawing frown, his head buzzing with scattered thoughts, and black and white static.

"All you need to do is just…treasure what you had. Then look forward to others in the future. It's not that hard. If you want to do something for me, then just do that."

"And lose them the same way? Repeating it over and over and over - !"

"_Dramatic_! Take me, jerk. I'll do my best convincing from there."

"I change my mind," Law then said shakily, reaching behind him for the handle of his sword. Before he could withdraw it, the waiter was in his space, looking up at him with a patient smile. They couldn't touch, and that hurt worst of all.

"I'll make my way back to you, if it means that much. But…all I ask is that you do as I've requested," he said to Law low, his blue eyes gentle. His skin was splattered with his own blood and brain matter, but Law couldn't accept that just yet. "And just…_be patient_. It'll probably happen when you least expect it, because that's how it happened with us. My love for you will always be what it was before this happened. It can't fade or die – it'll come back. You just gotta wait."

"I can't wait."

"Well, you have no choice. There will be a time when you'll feel my touch again. Hear my annoying voice. I promise you that. Now…can you hold onto your end of it?"

: :

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Law withdrew the pack of cigarettes he'd bought before he'd arrived. Different packaging, but with a similar symbol on the front. He placed it against the headstone with some finality, straightening up to tuck his hands into his pockets.

_He wasn't here_, he knew.

_Just let go_, he told himself. _Just let go_.

The cold breeze swept through the area once more, causing branches to sway and leaves to rustle. The city had changed immensely since that time – the area surrounding the cemetery included new living areas and bigger department stores. This place was almost like a resting point for those taking to the streets on foot.

Staring up at the heavily clouded skies above, Law thought that even the sky had changed. Birds chirped from their nests, and squirrels flitted about on the ground with their tails flicking. Amidst the collection of the dead's shells buried in the ground at his feet, he knew with finality that the waiter was not there. He was somewhere else, and that was _okay_.

He breathed in deeply, the air cold in his throat and lungs.

The weight in his chest felt much lighter than it did before.

: :

"Your name came up in conversation. Word is, you've returned."

Law lowered his fork to the plate, catching sight of the woman with the forever bloom in her forehead. "Robin."

She sat across from him, settling her skirts around her before pulling the chair up to the table. The diner was a quiet mixture of voices and sounds from the tv hoisted on the far wall, the smells of food thick in the air. "It's nice to see you again."

"What do you want?"

"Checking on the rumors. You look the same."

Law nodded, wiping his fingers on the napkin nearby. "I saw footage of myself. How embarrassing."

Robin smiled at him, cheek in palm. "What do you want to know?"

"I don't need to know anything. At the moment," Law then amended. "For now…our group is at a standstill."

"Meaning, they're babying you again."

"My group aren't the fuzziest of hands, but I'm sure they mean well."

Smiling again, Robin waited for him to push his half-finished plate aside.

"Everything tastes like garbage," Law muttered, slightly mystified. "Things have change so much that…it's been a whirlwind of discovery."

"That's the thrill of your long life."

"It hasn't been thrilling, lately. I've been cheating my way through life and it's starting to catch up." Law studied her for a few moments, then shook his head slightly. "Your gleam – did he…_they_ ever notice?"

"No." Robin looked down at herself. Instead of the traditional glow that customarily signaled the gleam, hers was the immense fabric of her outfit that Law had seen. Robin had been amused at how often she'd ben bypassed because of its structure. She patted it with one gloved hand. "I'll continue to live forever."

"How do you do it?"

"No attachments. And those that I feel I'm attaching myself to, I leave. I see what you're going through, why waste my kohl?"

"Indeed."

Robin studied the way his hands grasped and loosened atop of the table. "And you?"

After a long pause, Law glanced out the window of the diner. "Some rough thinking has me leaning in one direction. I just need a foot set firmly on the step – but is it to ascend or descend? I haven't decided."

"It hasn't hurt enough? Have you been back there?"

"There's no need for me to go back there. It would just be destructive."

"You're a masochist. Plucking at a scab that just needs to heal."

Law focused on her, reaching up to feel for the comfort of the hat he hadn't removed. Faintly, he could hear the waiter scolding him, but Law couldn't remember his voice anymore. Which gave him cold comfort.

"Maybe this was penance," he said slowly. "For thinking that power was more valuable than…"

"If you didn't have it, you'd never have experienced what you had. So, think about it again. You were lucky," Robin said, leaning back in her chair.

Law realized she was right, so he wore a bitter frown.

"I have word that there is a ghost causing trouble at a church outside of town. Glows like the sky…bright enough to be seen from the woods outside. Interested?"

"I've heard of no such inquiries on this…forum….from…the world wide web."

"Catch up with the times, Trafalgar. It wouldn't be on the forum just yet, because those people are…well, they're frightened to death. And embarrassed to bring attention to it. Sounds like something a priest from out of town would be interested in."

Law raised his eyebrows. "I don't know if that outfit is right for these times."

"There is another. You used it before. Or, should I say, the other you used it recently. Did you collect your payment from Mr Vinsmoke?"

"How do you know about all that?"

"I spoke with Sanji just the other day. It's awfully lonely for a man like him," Robin said with a sigh as Law felt a twist in his chest. "The other you removed everyone he was close to, and left him on his own."

"Don't guilt me into something I'm not ready for, witch."

Robin looked at him, smile disappearing slowly. "I don't take to attachments lightly. But I expect you to fix what you've done."

Law frowned sullenly, hearing the threat in her tone. _I could just remove her, too_, he thought bitterly.

"If you could, you would've done so years ago," she said, rising from her chair. She tucked it in lightly, causing other diners to look over at the screech of sound. Law ignored their surprised expressions. Giving him one last look, Robin said, "Abide by your promise."

She disappeared through the wall, emerging outside. Pulling an umbrella from the folds of her skirts, she unfolded it and walked on, flitting through the pedestrians that occupied the sidewalks. Thunder rumbled softly overhead.

After taking some minutes of thought, Law left payment for his meal, and left the restaurant as well.


	13. Heard You Call My Name

**A/N: Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading as I enjoyed writing it! As always, all comments are welcomed :D And yes...this is the end.**

**13: Heard You Call My Name**

**(Under the Dome – Of Monsters and Men)**

* * *

The restaurant was busy with the dinner rush, and Sanji was finishing up his shift. It wasn't the fanciest place on the block, but the pay was dependable and the staff was courteous. The regulars that often visited were quietly friendly and non-invasive. It was a place he'd remained loyal to since he was a teenager. While the cooks were loud and rowdy, often bothering him with rambunctious teasing and such, Sanji had long since tuned them out.

He often snapped back, but kept the peace. He wondered if the man Law was grieving was similar to him. To him, it felt like he was a failing project, and he wasn't sure if he should be disappointed or relieved of that.

Pen in mouth, he gathered up the plates that were ready to be distributed. He took them out carefully, depositing them in front of the diners that thanked him quietly. He then refilled their drinks and headed back to the kitchen. His feet were hurting from a long shift, and his head pounded with a headache, but he was caught in a fog. He wasn't sure if he were in a state of grief himself, or if he just didn't remember what life was like before Law invaded it.

He tried not to think about that man. If he wanted, Law could visit him again. Sanji hoped that he did. As awkward as the situation was, the company would be appreciated. He hadn't given the thought to being this alone – now that his family was gone – but now that he was in the midst of the aftermath, he felt a little overwhelmed.

It was best to continue working like nothing was wrong.

After dealing with the bill, he clocked out, gathered his bag and jacket, and headed out from the back. The night was cold, but it didn't smell of moisture. The ghosts that lingered along his route home hurried after him, speaking over each other about their circumstances, or commenting randomly about their surroundings. Some looking for a way home, some looking for a solution. None of which he could help with. He hunched his shoulders, then pulled out the earbuds that were tucked within the inside of his jacket pocket.

It was the jean jacket with the fur. It smelled of a man that was no longer there, so Sanji felt like he was in possession of a stranger's abandoned jacket. After slipping in the earbuds, he trekked to the bookstore. But the ghosts continued to follow him around with their lurching questions and desperate whispers, and despite the music playing in the buds, Sanji couldn't find the peace he needed to concentrate on his task.

He left the bookstore, glancing up at the night sky. He wondered what the stars looked like. Glancing in the windows (_old habit, looking for a mother that was no longer there_), he was startled to see someone he didn't expect to see. In alarm, he hunched his shoulders and quickened his step.

Alarm, surprise and anxiety raced through his veins. _What do I say? What do I say? What do I say?_ he thought frantically. _What should I show? Should I be angry? Impatient? Uncaring?_

Because he couldn't decide, he crossed the street without waiting for the light to change. Once he could overtake the block corner, he pushed into a corner mart as people were leaving it, and pressed up against the inside doorway. He watched the tall man in black walk past, and to Sanji, it was like watching a predatory stranger stalk away.

He winced up at the ceiling lights, frustrated with himself. _Fuck, I'm the one that invited him_, he reminded himself impatiently.

_It could be important_.

_It could be nothing_.

_I'm not the one_.

He crossed space to the back coolers, and considered his beverage choices because the cross clerk in front was watching him suspiciously. Choosing a low sugar drink, he paid for it and left the store – going in the opposite direction.

He wasn't sure what to say to Law. No words came to mind. He felt like he didn't have a place for words. The man was embroiled in his own grief and return, so what could Sanji even say to make him feel any better?

Insecurity iced his veins. As upset as he was when the man left him that night, Sanji felt he had no steady foothold in his world, anymore. At the same time…

He paused in mid-step, forcing other pedestrians to walk around him. He chewed on the inside of his lip, thinking that it was _he_ who invited the contact. Closing his eyes with building courage, he decided that hiding was going to do nothing. Probably all the man wanted was some continued closure. Maybe his clothes back. Not like Sanji could fit them, anyway.

But that night passed by without a visit, and the next day, he worked another long shift with scattered thoughts and a sense of jumpiness that made him fumble orders and forget the small things. He felt a sense of relief when his shift neared its end, and he hastily took the trash out and washed his hands to check on the last of his customers. But before he could, his coworker pointed out loudly that one of his tables had just been seated.

Sanji saw that he couldn't avoid it this time. So he took a steadying breath and walked over to greet the man that wore his clothing like armor; a black vest, stark black tie and white, pressed shirt tucked into belted trousers. He hadn't even removed his heavy black jacket with the hood. His sword hung from one shoulder – still in that weird carrying case. The overall presentation was accompanied with a hat Sanji had never seen before.

"Hey," he greeted (_a little stiffly, he noticed_). Once the man glared up at him from the brim of his hat, Sanji found _some_ strength. "You want a menu? Or a recommendation?"

"I didn't come here to eat," Law said (_a little stiffly, Sanji also noticed_).

"Then get out. Simple. My shift's over."

"Then do I meet you in the back, or in front?"

Grumbling, Sanji told him to meet him out back, and the man left the restaurant without acknowledging anyone else. Minutes later, he slowly stuffed his arms into his jacket (_his own, as he didn't think he could bear Law asking for his jacket back_) as he walked outside, adjusting the sleeves to fit over his plain white shirt and black trousers. He approached the other man standing by the owner's gleaming white BMW, looking fairly intimidating.

_All of him was intimidating_, Sanji noticed with discomfort. The other one would flop or slouch himself like some cat without any threat.

Once aware he was dragging his feet, Sanji hastily cleaned his steps and looked up at him warily. He then dropped his eyes with frustration, because he was being pierced with eyes that looked more amber than the grey ones that he was used to.

"They told me you can see and hear all of them," Law said slowly. "And touch them. They can touch you."

"Yeah?"

"So…there is a task."

"I'm not doing it," Sanji then said quickly. "I told you – him- _them_ before, I'm not doing that sort of thing. I don't want to be involved."

"Why? This has no relation to you."

"Why are you still doing this?" Sanji then returned, looking at him with disbelief. "After all you went through, why are you still doing this?"

"Unfortunately…" Law glared off down the alley, shifting his feet with a sign of impatience. "This task is…different. Mine only works if they approach me."

"It has…it has a gleam, right? Can't you see the light?"

"No, that's why I'm here, asking you to help."

Sanji wore a tight frown because, despite himself, those magic words just undid him. He could say 'no' and walk away – but he'd obsess about it. He'd agonize over the possibilities, upset that he lost out on a chance to have his days occupied with others rather than just himself and the litany of ghosts that accosted him.

He'd get to know the man this way. He could. Settle some of the restless agony that constantly roiled inside of him because Law wasn't the one(s) he knew. Despite it, he wanted to know him. Wanted to be close – maybe Law wouldn't feel the same towards him anymore, but…Sanji had hope.

Gruffly, he said, "I have some time. But I won't be ripping out hearts anymore."

Law gave him a puzzled look as Sanji anxiously rubbed his own palms, trying to exorcise the remembrance of that situation away. Discomforted, Sanji then turned away from him. "You know where to find me, I guess."

Law was quiet for a few moments, but his face twitched with mild frustration as he then said, "We weren't paid. For…the…exorcising at your father's house."

Sanji nodded to show that he heard, giving a shrug as he continued walking (slowing his step regardless). "That happens. Threaten him with exposure of his desperation, and he'll pay. Probably with interest."

"Can't you tell him?"

"I've been dead to my father before the others could kick the bucket. Just dress up in the costume you were wearing before and show up on his doorstep. He'll write you a check right then and there."

"I'm going there now," Law then said, having to walk after him to be heard. "But considering the choice of costumes, and those idiots' drunkenness, they aren't sure of which one I took."

Sanji stopped, wearing an expression of chagrin. As clumsily as those words left the other man's mouth (_with an unfamiliar stammer, and unconsciously unlike the image Law presented_), Sanji felt like these were just closeted words. He was extending an invitation, and it was up to Sanji to take it. He couldn't quite ignore it. He closed his eyes with exhaustion, hating himself and his weakness.

Nearly an hour later, the pair of them walked up the steps to the house, leaving Shachi sitting in the white van at the driveway. The air was heavily awkward between them, so not much had been said. It was as if they were both feeling each other out without trying to draw attention to it, and failing to be so obvious. Sanji had the thought that Law had come to peace with something, because his eyes weren't so heavily shadowed with that grief he'd seen the other night, and wanted to ask. He decided it wasn't his place to do so.

For Law, he was battling nervousness and anxiety because after he'd come to peace with himself, now he felt like he was caught on a line between betrayal and loyalty. Not that he was forcing himself to think this would lead anywhere (_maybe_) but parts of himself felt hopeful that maybe this was what the waiter meant when he said he'd find his way back to him.

After Sanji depressed the doorbell and knocked when there was no answer, he looked to Law. "He's probably at work. Open the door so I can look at something while he's gone."

Law furrowed his brow with confusion, pulling at the white collar at his neck. The frock smelled like a stranger's sweat and polyester, and it made his skin crawl. He glanced over at Shachi, who issued a thumbs up from the van. Moments later, Sanji pulled the door open.

The moment he stepped in, he _knew_; the house was empty. Niji and Reiju's presence had been an immediate feel in the air, a weighty expectation that they would venture out from the shadows to greet him with their individual ways. It was almost disappointing to know that they wouldn't do so, anymore. Law noticed the smell immediately, exhaling heavily – Sanji caught it moments later. He wore an expression of dread, hand to his nose as Law ventured into the foyer with purpose. He looked back at Sanji cautiously, seeking his permission.

"I'll call the cops," he murmured. "I don't want to see him."

Law nodded, then continued his way in. The mansion was too large for one person to live in comfortably; he didn't know the family, but he could picture the man as he'd seen him in the newspapers. He found Judge sitting in his study. With the way he was hunched over the sprawl of papers on his desk, it was apparent the man had some sort of health issue. The smell was horrendous, so he held his breath. Glancing at the paperwork while he heard Sanji talk to the 911 dispatcher, he noticed the bills and red notices. The eviction letters, the court documents; he noticed that the pictures standing on the desk were of his wife and kids – but no Sanji.

He wondered what Judge died of. He exhaled his held breath as he left the study, following Sanji outside.

"I couldn't answer their questions, should they question my presence here," Law told him. "If you'd like, we can wait – "

"Just go. It'd be like handing over the paperwork for a stranger," Sanji told him. Discomforted, Law turned and headed back to the van while Sanji crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe to stare down at the lit hall. He wondered when Judge passed; he didn't feel any sadness in it. Just acceptance. He heard the van pull away, sirens in the distance. Not everyone that passed left behind a ghost – he was positive Judge wouldn't remain behind when his family was gone.

His headache pounded at his temples, and he reached up to wearily pull his glasses off to rub at his eyes.

"What is your story, so I can corroborate with it?" Law asked, pulling on his jacket and startling Sanji with his presence.

"I told you to go," Sanji said, seeing that Shachi was the only one to have left. "There's no need to corroborate with anything."

"But you're alone now, right? Robin told me of what happened," Law said with noticeable discomfort, zipping up his jacket. Sanji reacted with a startled turn to face him, shoving his glasses back on.

"You know Robin?"

"Aye, for a long time. Before the world wide web – "

"Just say internet, Optimus Prime."

Law collected himself with a slight flush. He _heard_the waiter in that sarcasm, so his heart jolted ever so slightly. Feeling that response allowed a shaky exhale, followed by an ever so slight twist of his mouth. He hastily corrected himself.

"The _internet_," he amended touchily, "before that, she was the one handing me the news of where I might find my next hit."

"Interesting. She never alluded to the fact that she knew you. I mean…personally."

"She wasn't close to that other person…s."

Sanji watched the patrol car with the flashing lights pull up, the officers inside giving them suspicious looks. He swallowed hard. "The corroboration is that I came here with a friend to check on my father. He occasionally notified me for a regular checkup. We're not close. Never were. Just…answer what you think is best of an estranged family."

"I have fake ID. A solid background. They can run anything on me, and find their answers."

Sanji nodded faintly, lowering his arms to his sides, descending the steps to meet the greeting officers, an ambulance with a lack of siren but flashing lights pulling into the driveway.

: :

When the day came for them to take a trip to the church out of town, Sanji was an anxious bundle of nerves. Robin stood next to him as they waited down on the street for the white van, her umbrella up and over them. The rain hit the material and slide away from them – falling too thick and hard for anyone to notice that Sanji wasn't affected. He wasn't sure what it meant to wear to some ghost hunt that may or may not have some demonic presences (Shachi's excited words and Penguin's disappointment), so he'd thrown on his overalls and paired that with a light sweater that had a hood, all-weather boots laced tight. He rolled the cuffs of his overalls so they wouldn't get wet.

"Nervous?" Robin asked him, tilting her head to look down at him.

"Not really," Sanji lied. "Just…curious."

"I'm sure they're all just as nervous," she assured him. "Demonic things are a little intimidating. But they've worked their fair share. Remain confident."

Sanji nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of running into those."

"Your mother did well to protect you, Sanji," Robin said.

_Was it really that_? Sanji wondered. As he exhaled, he could see his breath. "I went to Corazon the other day. Just to…make sure things were okay. Have you…ever seen his face?"

"Sometimes, we just like to remain hidden to strangers," Robin murmured.

"Wonder why he chose to be like that…can you choose your gleam?"

"It depends on the mood. You cannot see mine?"

"No. Do you have one? He would've noticed."

"He's seen it – the others cannot."

"Weird you never mentioned it, before."

"You never asked the right questions."

Sanji had to admit that he didn't. He just thought it would be intrusive to ask without permission. He ducked his head, watching his heels bounce as he paced nervously.

"It's not that I'm scared," he felt he had to mention, "I just that I don't know what I'm getting into."

"It's fine if you are."

"He just makes me so nervous. It's like talking to an old man that has no idea how to have fun."

Robin chuckled. "So it's something you identify with?"

"I know how to have fun," Sanji mumbled, feeling himself flush. "I just choose not to."

The van screeched up to the sidewalk, Penguin leaning out from the passenger side window to yell, "Get in, loser! We're catching ghosts today!"

Sanji wrinkled his nose with disdain, then glanced at Robin. She smiled brightly at him.

"Do your very best!"

As Sanji hurried over, the side door thrown aside by Jean Bart and his can of beer, Robin added, "Oh, Sanji?"

He looked back at her, blinking under the falling rain.

"Don't catch a cold, sweetie."

He nodded and waved to show that he heard, and clambered into the van as Robin waved at them.

"Who were you talking to?" Penguin asked once he took a seat in the back, buckling himself in. Law had a book on his lap, head bent to concentrate on the task.

"A friend," Sanji answered, shivering as Jean Bart shut the door and resettled in his chair.

"Is she hot?" Shachi asked with interest.

"Big boobs?" Penguin asked hopefully. Sanji stared back at them with disgust.

"It was _Robin_, morons," Law muttered. "Still behaving like uneducated virgins that could only dream of seeing a woman's body in real life. Make me sick."

The pair of them thrust their middle fingers at him, booing him before resettling in their seats with complaints. Jean Bart elbowed Law before slurping at his beer, Law closing his book with a heavy sigh. He looked out the window as the van jerked forward, Shachi still grumbling at the wheel while Penguin fumed in his seat, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

In the bench seat behind him, Sanji could see him looking into the distance with a scowl to his face. _Like an old man_! he thought, wondering if that old man he'd seen at the bar was his actual appearance.

"Maybe this task will make you reconsider your choices," Law then said, addressing the window. Sanji couldn't see too much of his side profile, but the reflection showed enough to inform him that Law was talking to him.

Sanji wasn't sure what he could reconsider of something that sounded slightly dramatic, but deep inside, he was glad to be included. If he could be helpful…then maybe it make him noticeable. But he couldn't allow that sort of vulnerability to show.

So he said, "I'm aware that the elderly tend to make shows a tad more dramatic than they actually are, but I'm open minded."

"Ooh, he's sensitive about his age," Sanji heard Shachi whisper dramatically towards Penguin.

"Here we go," Penguin commented in the same volume.

Sure enough, Law turned in his seat to look back at Sanji with a scowl. "You're going to regret taking this lightly. And I'm not babying you if you're not willing to prepare yourself."

"And yet you asked me to help. I've seen plenty. Nothing will surprise me, anymore," Sanji muttered, looking out the window just to avoid feeling uncomfortable with that focus. "I just don't think that this task could be any more showy than that Scottish guy."

Law resettled in his seat to glare out the window. Sanji sneaked peeks at him via the reflection to judge his mood, his hands fisted upon his lap.

Shachi, Penguin and Jean Bart exchanged glances between each other.

Night made its presence known in the lights that blinked on, windows alighting individually and in groups in various buildings. Pedestrians became scarce in various sections, rain falling down with a strength that was familiar to those caught in it.

Somewhere at the edge of town, a church's windows bloomed with the color of lightening that sent its occupants scurrying for safety.


End file.
